


Is This A Dare?

by writingonpostcards



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, TA!Jack, non-hockey au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2020-08-20 15:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20230066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: Bitty gets himself into a situation and calls his TA Jack to bail him out. Literally. From the police station. It all unfolds from there.“I’m sorry to call so late but you can’t hang up.”Jack sighs over the phone. “There isn’t going to be a quiz in class tomorrow and you’ve got another three weeks until the essay is due.”There’s no question but Bitty reads what he’s implying. “I know. My emergency isn’t related to the course.”“Is this some kind of dare,” Jack asks, with a reluctance that makes Bitty wonder if that’s happened a lot before.“No. Not a dare.”





	1. "Is This A Dare?"

**Author's Note:**

> Due to popular demand, this fic is making the journey from its original home on [tumblr.](https://17piesinseptember.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Please note, there is no update schedule for this WIP. I'm freestyling it. (Though I will transferring the already existing ten parts over weekly until I catch up to myself.)

“Make your phone call,” the officer instructs him.

“But I don’t have my contacts,” Bitty repeats for the umpteenth time. “They’re all on my phone!”

The woman shrugs but offers a sympathetic glance. Bitty sighs. It’s a crap situation and he’s definitely panicking but she’s not at fault.

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” she tells him and walks off, leaving him alone in the corridor by the wall-mounted phone.

He does know a few numbers off by heart but he doesn’t think his parents will appreciate a call at this time of night from their only child who is in another state and in jail.

Bitty longs to bang his head against the wall but doesn’t want to catch some disease. He checks his pockets once more for his phone, driven by an instinct he can’t fight off.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.  _ Again. _

He wraps his arms around his torso, trying to remain calm and not switch over from panicking to crying. That’s when he hears it. The crinkle of paper. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the folded bit of paper, trying not to let his hopes build too quickly, but he has a feeling that-

“Yes!” Bitty exclaims.

It’s the course outline for the class he’d been studying for. Scribbled at the top is the phone number of the TA.

Bitty calls the number, not sure if the five minutes the cop gave him is the only chance he’ll get to contact someone, desperately hoping for an answer even though it’s near midnight.

The phone is picked up after two rings.

“Hi. This is Jack.”

“Hi. Uh, Jack…” Bitty checks the outline again. “Zimmermann?” Bitty crosses his fingers.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Oh, thank God”, Bitty says away from the mouthpiece. “Hi Jack. This is Bit–uh, Eric. I’m in the Women, Food and American culture class you TA. I’m really sorry to call but it’s kind of an emergency and-”

“Stop,” Jack interrupts him. “Do you know what time it is?”

Bitty doesn’t take it as a great sign that Jack’s interrupted with that specific question. “Yes. I’m aware. But-.”

“Okay. So call again during school hours and I’ll help you out,” Jack tells him.

“No, no!” Bitty shouts, tightening his grip on the phone. “Please. It’s–” He takes a breath and brings his voice back under control. “I’m sorry to call so late but you can’t hang up.”

Jack sighs over the phone. “There isn’t going to be a quiz in class tomorrow and you’ve got another three weeks until the essay is due.”

There’s no question but Bitty reads what he’s implying. “I know. My emergency isn’t related to the course.”

Jack sighs again and Bitty crosses an arm over his chest. He’s starting to feel a little guilty for interrupting Jack’s night. He’s probably going to get a terrible grade on his next assessment for this.

“Is this some kind of dare,” Jack asks, with a reluctance that makes Bitty wonder if that’s happened a lot before

“No. Not a dare.”

“I should’ve listened when Lardo said not to give my number out,” Jack mumbles. Bitty doesn’t think he’s meant to hear it so he doesn’t vehemently disagree with ‘Lardo’ on this point. Jack giving out his number is saving Bitty’s ass right now.

“It’s a little the opposite of a dare,” Bitty hedges, trying to work or the best way to say 'I need you to bail me out of jail’ to someone who doesn’t really know him.

“Oh,” Jack says, weighted. “Oh.”

“See, the thing is,” Bitty starts, hoping his brain will get with the program and take over from his mouth soon.

“Eric, stop,” Jack interrupts for the second time tonight.

He’s barely started but Bitty bites his lip and waits for Jack to say his bit.

“I know there’s no campus code against TAs or teachers dating their students, but the inherent hierarchy–”

Bitty’s gut sinks. “No, that’s not-” he tries to interrupt, but it seems–alarmingly–that this is a well rehearsed speech and Jack hasn’t finished yet. He doesn’t really listen to the rest of it, just waits impatiently for it to be over so they can get to the real issue.

“So nothing can happen,” Jack finally concludes. “Sorry. Please know your grades will in no way be affected by this.”

“That was great, Jack,” Bitty says, a little snippy because he doesn’t know how long he has left of his five minutes. “A real gentle let down and great to know my grades won’t be affected by this, but I’m not calling at midnight because I’ve got some crush on you,” Bitty tries to take a deep breath but it’s more snatched than that as he races to get his words out.

“It’s because I’m at the police station and need someone to bail me out and I don’t have my phone or bag or anything and the only numbers I know from memory are my parents and they’re back in Georgia, so I can’t call them, but I have a copy of the course outline and it has your number on it so I called you.”

Bitty finishes his slightly manic rant.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Bitty says, feeling bad straight away for his tone. The last thing he needs is for Jack to refuse because Bitty’s rude to him. “Sorry. It's… I’m very tired.”

“Is  _ this  _ the dare?” Jack asks.

Bitty feels deflated. His one chance and Jack doesn’t believe him. “No.”

There’s movement on Jack’s end of the line and Bitty’s heart does a hopeful leap into his throat at the sound of a key ring jangling.

“Where are you?” Jack asks him.

“Westway North.” Bitty hopes he doesn’t sound like he’s about to cry, because he definitely is.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”


	2. “What happened tonight?”

Bitty does cry a little, thankful the holding cell is empty, though very quiet. Ordinarily he’d be tweeting this whole saga and without his phone he feels alone even knowing Jack’s on the way.

The cop brings him some water and offers a tissue which almost sets Bitty off again. He’s not tired exactly, he’s normally up late, but the last hour or so has drained him.

Bitty doesn’t know how close to the fifteen predicted minutes Jack told him before the cop is unlocking the cell and walking him back to the waiting room.

It’s just Jack in there.

“Oh,” Jack says when he sees Bitty. Bitty’s becoming sure it’s a catchphrase of his.

He isn’t sure what the ‘oh’ is about but Jack’s here and that’s all he cares about.

“Thanks for coming, Jack,” Bitty says gratefully, stopping beside him.

Jack nods. “Let me sign you out then I’ll drop you off at the dorms?” He turns the end bit into a question and it makes Bitty even more indebted and grateful to Jack for coming without knowing how far he’d have to go to take Bitty back home.

“Yes please. Thank you so much.”

“Do you have things to collect?” Jack asks. Bitty shakes his head. “Right. You said in the phone call.”

Jack nods to himself and heads over to reception.

“You seem familiar with the process,” Bitty comments as they leave.

“I have poor taste in friends.”

“Right.” Bitty thinks it’s a joke, but the delivery is so dry it’s hard to tell.

Getting into the car with Jack is surreal. He’s stopped seeing teachers as 'other’ ages ago, and TAs he should feel even less that way about. Still. He shoves his hands under his thighs after he puts the seatbelt on and lets Jack set the tone.

Jack turns the heat up and the music down before pulling out of the small parking lot onto the street.

“Which dorm are you in?” Jack asks.

“Smith. It’s to the, um, north of Founders. I think? Maybe? Wait, I’ll google it and—Oh shit.” Bitty remembers his phone is AWOL.

Jack laughs softly. “It’s okay. I know where it is. That was my old dorm.”

“Really?”

Jack nods and changes lanes smoothly, indicating ahead of time and doing all his mirror checks. Bitty relaxes back into his seat and counts the streetlights as they drive past.

“Can I ask something?” Bitty says when he’s up to 20. His blinks have been getting longer and he wouldn’t feel comfortable falling asleep in Jack’s car.

“Sure,” Jack agrees easily.

“I noticed you say 'oh’ a lot.”

“Oh,” Jack says. Bitty still can’t tell if he’s joking.

“You said it a few times tonight. On the phone, then when you saw me in the station. I’m not saying anything bad about it. It’s actually not a question is it. I just noticed. Um, did you know you do that?” His sentence meanders like the Samwell river, words coming out before his brain has shaped them.

“It’s intentional,” Jack tells him. “It’s a placeholder word. Like a short way to say 'I’ve heard you and now I’m thinking about what to say’.”

“Oh.” Bitty claps a hand over his mouth when he realises what he’s said.

Jack looks over at the movement.

“Sorry,” Bitty says under hand. “I wasn’t mocking, I swear.”

Jack’s lips lift at one corner. “It’s fine, Eric. I didn’t think you were.”

“Good.”

Bitty’s second of embarrassment has at least woken him up more. He doesn’t go back to counting streetlights in case it lulls him to sleep.

“Can I ask you something?” Jack says.

“Of course.” Bitty twists as much as he can in the car seat to look at Jack.

“What happened tonight?”

Bitty thinks this would be a good time to use Jack’s placeholder 'oh’. He turns back to face out the front and places his hands back beneath his thighs.

“Sorry, that was over the line,” Jack apologises. “You don’t have to answer.”

“No, it’s alright,” Bitty reassures Jack. “I was pretty over the line calling you to do this and you did it anyway. So.”

They drift into silence for the last few minutes of the trip, Bitty not answering the question and Jack not trying for a new conversation. Bitty thinks about the kind of pie or seventeen he’ll have to make Jack as a thank you.

Jack indicates to pull over in front of the dorm, then puts the brakes on.

“I’ll wait for you to get inside,” he tells Bitty.

“You don’t have to.” Bitty doesn’t want to be more of a burden.

“I don’t mind.”

Bitty gets out of the car and walks up to the dorm entrance. He reaches absentmindedly for his student pass. His fingers hit the inside seams of his pocket and he curls his fingers into a fist around the empty air.

“Okay. Okay. Okay,” Bitty whispers to himself, clenching his fist tighter and tighter until it hurts more than the lump in his throat and the pressure behind his eyes.

The street is empty and dark. Sounds travels. Bitty hears the car door open and Jack’s feet hit the pavement.

Bitty swallows roughly and turns around.

Jack’s waiting for him.

Bitty retraces his steps slowly, eyes down. Each step threatens his ability to keep calm.

“What’s going on?” Jack asks.

Bitty pulls his hand from his empty pocket.

“Of course,” Jack says. “I forgot. I’m sorry.”

Bitty rubs at his eyes and turns back to look at his dorm.

“Is there someone you can call? A roommate or RA or someone?”

“It’s after hours for the RA,” Bitty whispers, hoping to slip the words unnoticed past the ball of terror in his throat. “I don’t have my phone. I don’t know my roommate’s number.”

Bitty shivers, the night air getting to him.

“Get back in,” Jack tells him.

“What?” Bitty turns around.

“It’s late and cold. I’ve got a pullout couch.”

“No. I can’t do that.” Bitty shivers again and wraps his arms around himself.

Jack’s silhouetted by his headlights but Bitty thinks he catches him frown.

Jack sighs. “Can we at least both be warm while we talk about it?”

Bitty shivers again. He gets in.


	3. “Should I?”

Jack turns the headlights off but dials the heating to the top setting. Bitty watches him stifle a yawn in the crook of his arm.

He should have spent the night at the station.

“So.” Jack clears his throat. “Where else would you go?”

Bitty shrugs.

“A friend’s place you could knock on the door?”

Bitty shrugs again. Even a single word will display to Jack how close to tears he is.

Jack sighs and rubs at his face.

“Sorry,” Bitty whispers, then presses a fist to his mouth to try and force the sobs back down his throat.

“No. No. It's… We’ve just got to make a decision and act on it,” Jack says sensibly.

Bitty nods and drops his hand from his mouth. “Okay,” he croaks.

“Good.”

Bitty can’t offer a suggestion. He has none, and no brain space to work for it.

“Look,” Jack breaks the silence. “I know you said no before, but I think our best plan is you spend the night at my place.”

Bitty did say no earlier. He doesn’t have the willpower to turn down Jack’s offer a second time. Not when he’s called it ‘our plan’. The only other thought that entered Bitty’s mind when his hand grasped empty air instead of his key card was to spend the night camped out in front of his building.

Bitty swallows. “Okay.”

Jack doesn’t say anything of Bitty’s sudden acceptance. He puts his seatbelt on, waits for Bitty to do the same, then indicates and pulls out, taking Bitty to wherever it is Jack lives. Bitty would ask, but his tears have finally spilled over, spurred by relief.

He turns his head, looking out the side window. Bitty’s neck cramps quickly but he doesn’t need the pity—or more pity—when Jack realises he’s crying.

Bitty doesn’t recognise the streets Jack drives them down, taking them from university buildings to suburbia. Jack shifts in his seat twice, breathing like he’s about to speak. Bitty stays staring the other way.

“Open the glove box,” Jack finally says.

Bitty’s confused by the non-sequitur but does it anyway, trying not to turn his head too far.

The user manual is still in there, and one other thing; a box of tissues.

Bitty presses his lips together. He almost shuts the glove box without taking one, then realises in the grand scheme of tonight, what’s one tissue compared with Jack bailing him out and offering his couch.

Bitty pulls the whole box out. “Thanks Jack.”

By the time Jack pulls into a double driveway, parking next to a well-loved Jeep, Bitty’s eyes are dry. He still feels shitty, like someone’s taken his whole body and dropped it in a bucket of mixed emotions. They’re still dripping from him, but tiredness has won out for the moment.

He doesn’t actually realise they’ve stopped until Jack loosens the tissue box from Bitty’s grip and returns it to the glovebox.

“We’re here,” Jack tells Bitty.

There’s a note for Jack on the table in the combined living/dining room which he reads quickly, huffing a laugh.

“Concerned roommate,” he tells Bitty, using the pen left beside the paper to write a response.

Bitty thinks about asking Jack about it but although his brain thinks the question, he’s so beyond tired he can’t convince himself to open his mouth to form the sentence.

He shuts his eyes and holds them closed a little too long.

“Hey,” Jack catches Bitty as he slants sideways.

Again, the apology in Bitty’s head stays there.

“Come on. My room’s on this floor.”

Jack keeps an arm around Bitty as he leads them down a corridor to the door at the very end. Bitty’s grateful for it. It’s a slow journey. Lifting his feet is so much effort, step after step after step after step.

They make it eventually and Jack guides Bitty to his bed and sits him down.

Bitty stares at his shoes, wishing to suddenly be telekinetic so they’ll take themselves off.

“Should I?” Jack asks.

That’s the prompt Bitty needs. He folds his body in half and begins the arduous process of unlacing. It takes him so long Jack’s managed to put a fresh pillowcase on the pillow on the bed, and grab a spare one plus linen for the couch from a cupboard.

“Right,” Jack says, standing in the middle of his room.

Bitty blinks slowly trying to focus his gaze on Jack.

“Stay as long as you need in the morning. Help yourself to food, coffee, whatever. Bathroom is first door to the left,” Jack gestures to the corridor beyond his door. “Uh, I think that’s it. Sleep well, I guess.”

Jack turns to leave. Bitty straightens up from his tired slump.

“I thought I was taking the couch.” It’s been so long since he’s spoken. He barely recognises the voice that emerges from his dry throat.

Jack turns back to Bitty. His face is carefully blank.

“You’ve had a tough night. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed by having random strangers moving about you in the morning.”

Bitty looks at Jack. It turns out his body isn’t so exhausted it can’t react with tears. Bitty directs his attention to stopping them and he lets any possibility of an argument dissipate.

“Thank you,” Bitty whispers.

Jack stares a moment before nodding and leaving, shutting the door softly behind him.


	4. Please don’t use a packet mix again

Bitty wakes the next morning and remembers immediately where he is and what’s happened. He spends a confusing few seconds unsure what to feel about the past half-day before returning to his favoured method of ignoring it.

Thoughts of his phone, bag, and other possessions get shoved back for more immediate concerns. The bathroom is right beside Jack’s room and he doesn’t see anyone on his way there or back. He hovers in Jack’s room, door open, listening for movement in the house.

There is none.

Bitty presses a hand to his abdomen, trying to stop the clenching of his hungry stomach. Jack did say to help himself to food but it feels impolite to do so when there’s no one here with him.

Bitty remakes Jack’s bed, stripping the pillow case and adding it to the hamper in the corner of the room. He walks down the corridor to the main room; kitchen, living and dining all in one. He passes another bedroom door and a set of stairs on the way, both things he’d missed last night.

He pulls a chair out and sits at the table to put his shoes on. The laces are much easier in the morning.

There’s a note on the table. Bitty glances at it, expecting it to be the same one from last night. He double takes. It has his name on it.

_ Hi Eric. _

_ I hope you slept well. We’re all working today, sorry to leave you alone. There’s a stack of pancakes in the fridge I put aside for you. Please eat them. _

_ Jack. _

He’s also written the address of the house and listed buses for Bitty to get back to the University. The pile of coins on the table Bitty had ignored turns out to be the exact bus fair back. Bitty picks them up and stares at them in his hand before curling his fist around them and pressing it against his lips.

He sits there until his stomach grumbles again and he goes to find the pancakes Jack’s left. It would be rude not to eat them.

Jack’s labelled the plate as well, though it’s the only plate of food in there. Bitty heats them in the microwave and covers them with the maple syrup that was placed next to them in the fridge. The sugary sauce can’t mask the fact that they’re from a packet mix. Bitty eats them all anyway. He washes his dishes and stacks them in the drying rack.

With that done, there’s nothing left keeping him in the house. Jack’s note says he’d be back mid-afternoon which is hours away and too long for Bitty to spend in his empty house. He does contemplate it briefly but the way Jack’s worded it doesn’t make it seem like he’s expecting Bitty to still be there. It’s also a dissuading factor for Bitty not knowing when Jack’s other roommates will return. Bitty doesn’t need that situation today.

Bitty wraps his fingers around the coins in his pocket and looks around the room, stalling by the front door. The back half of the room has the kitchen and dining area, kitchen separated by a long counter top, a wooden dining table and six chairs in the eating area.

Bitty stands near one of two large couches pointing toward a TV on an entertainment unit with open shelving displaying two different gaming consoles and an assortment of DVDs. The coffee table in front of them is covered with books.

Bitty spots a notepad and pen in the pile and pulls them out, trying not to disturb the other books. He sits on the couch and clicks the pen on.

_ Jack _ , he starts.

He clicks the pen off and on again. Writing isn’t his strong suit and the longer he thinks on it, the harder it becomes to find the combination of words that best captures his gratitude.

_ Jack. _

_ Thank you for the pancakes. I’m writing out a recipe below for you. They’re the best pancakes ever and they’re super easy to cook. Please don’t use a packet mix again. _

_ Eric. _

He folds the paper up and writes Jack’s name on the front, getting up to put it on the table. He picks up the one for him and pockets it, not trusting he’ll remember the bus numbers.

He twirls the pen in his hand, then opens his note again and adds a postscript.

_ P.S. Thank you for everything else too. _

He refolds the letter and flips it so Jack’s name shows.

He gets halfway to the door before sighing and turning back around.

He opens the letter again and adds another post script. His number.


	5. “What about one pie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Parts V + VI from Tumblr have been combined into one chapter here]

It’s not a long bus ride but without his phone or music it feels that way. Bitty taps his fingers against his lips, remembering leaving his phone number for Jack—a number that goes to a phone he doesn’t have anymore and might not get back soon, if ever.

He should have left his email address instead. His personal one, not the uni provided one Jack probably has access to anyway.

Bitty groans aloud and crosses his arms. An email isn’t better. He shouldn’t have left anything. He rests his head against the window, not caring about the countless others who must have done the same before him, adding his own oily marks on the pane.

Stupid, he thinks to himself. What point is leaving contact information anyway. He and Jack aren’t friends and there’s no reason after last night for Jack to stay in contact with Bitty. He did his good deed. Bitty shouldn’t want to ask more from Jack after all that, especially after Jack’s speech about classroom hierarchy and relationships.

Bitty sighs and readjusts his forehead on the glass. It’s incredibly uncomfortable but he holds it for a moment so he can’t confess to himself the real reason he gave Jack his number. (There’d been one moment picturing a hopeful vision of him and Jack in some fantastical future and it was so strong he’d turned and written his number of a bit of paper.)

Bitty groans and buries his face in his hands trying to force away his embarrassment. He spends so long with his head in his hands he misses his dorm by two stops and has to retrace his steps. He takes his time because he knows when he makes it to the dorm he’ll have to face the reality of his situation. He’ll need to replace his key, cancel his cards, hope and pray all his photos have been uploaded to the cloud.

Thankfully, they keep the main dorm doors open during the day, so Bitty is able to get into the building and up to his room. His roommate lets him in when he knocks and Bitty feels a sliver of relief that he was in to do so. Bitty grabs fresh clothes from his dresser and his shower kit. He loses track of time as he washes, the hot water soothing some of the tension he’s been carrying since last night.

Back in his room, feeling refreshed if not better, Bitty takes inventory. It turns into an incredibly long afternoon, equally as tiring as the other night. Bitty does every bit of tedious organising he can bear, thankful he’d left his laptop behind the other night and can do it all from the privacy of his room, where no one is around to see him swear and cry and punch his pillow in equal parts.

His new student card takes a day to make so he has 24 hours without access to the mess hall. (He says a quick thank you to Jack for his pancakes when he learns that.) He has a few tubs of yoghurt in his mini fridge and half a dozen eggs which he views as literal lifesavers because he hasn’t figured out yet how he’s going to pay for things without getting a new card or phone.

As Bitty sits on his bed eating a yoghurt, debating whether or not to message his parents, he finds himself looking forward to Monday. He hopes his classes can distract him, starting with his women and food class first thing in the morning. With Jack.

-

Bitty wakes hungry to the tapping of his roommate on his door.

“Thanks,” he grumbles, grateful his roommate agreed to be his alarm today until he figures out a better way to do it.

He can’t get into the mess hall without his new card, so he grabs yet another yoghurt from the fridge and eats it in his bedroom while he packs a new bag for today, apologising to his mother’s voice in his head reminding him that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

For the first time ever, Bitty is the first one in the lecture theatre. Not even the teacher is there. He opens his laptop and refreshes his email, hoping to see one from student services saying his ID card is ready for collection. There’s nothing there.

Bitty opens his notes for the class and surprises himself by becoming bored enough to read over them. Twitter felt wrong on his laptop.

Eventually, students start coming in. Bitty tries to tune out their conversations but it’s more interesting than revision. He spends a few minutes scrolling sporadically to keep up appearances while eavesdropping on a conversation about a weekend trip one of the sport teams took. He’s so engrossed he misses someone clearing their throat beside him, and it’s not until that person leans over and puts their arm along the back of Bitty’s chair that he shifts his attention.

Bitty lifts his head to see Jack looking at him. From very close up. This is probably the closest Bitty’s ever seen him, closer than sitting beside each other in Jack’s car, and he can’t help but notice Jack’s eyes are incredibly blue.

“Can I see you after class?” Jack asks, keeping his voice low.

“Uh,” Bitty flushes, having to try very consciously not to drop his eyes to Jack’s lips. Or his jaw line. Or his shoulders. “Yes. Okay.”

Jack’s probably not intending his question and posturing to cause Bitty’s abdomen to contract but it does anyway.

“Meet me down front after,” Jack instructs, then continues down the stairs to his seat in the front row of the lecture theatre.

Jack doesn’t look at him again during the lecture at all. Bitty tries not to look at Jack so frequently but can’t help it because he keeps thinking about what Jack wants to see him about. He couldn’t read enough in Jack’s tone to know and doesn’t know enough of him to guess. The closest he can manage is that Jack wants to talk to Bitty about him leaving his number. He’s not sure he’s up for sitting through Jack’s “I don’t date students” speech again.

By the end of the lecture, Bitty’s notes are appalling and only fill half a page. Bitty tries to take his time packing up but without his normal bag with its extraneous content, he’s done very quickly. He gets up and makes his way against the current of people down to the front where Jack’s stacking sheets of paper together into a folder.

“Hi,” Bitty announces his presence, sitting in the seat two along from Jack.

“Hey, Eric,” Jack greets, closing the folder. “You got home alright yesterday then?”

Bitty nods. “Thanks for the bus money.”

Jack smiles, gathering his bag and papers. “There’s a class coming in here. Do you mind coming with me to the TA offices?”

“Oh. Ah, sure,” Bitty says, standing up again and following Jack out of the lecture hall.

They pass a coffee cart on the way and Jack breaks the silence between them to offer to buy Bitty something.

“Do you want a coffee? Muffin?”

Bitty scoffs reflexively at the offer of a baked good.

“I take that as a no?” Jack asks.

Bitty clears his throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—It’s just the muffins aren't—But yes. That’s a no. Thanks, though.”

Bitty has never been to the TA offices. He assumed Jack would share a room with Professor Atley, but if turns out he’s in a larger communal office area with several desks spread around the walls.

“There’s eight of us in here,” Jack tells Bitty as he leads him around a large table in the middle of the room toward a desk in the back left corner. Jack sits down at his desk and puts his bag under the table beside a filing cabinet.

“That seat’s free.” Jack gestures behind Bitty to the neighbouring desk. Bitty wheels the chair over and sits, keeping his bag on his lap so he has something to do with his hands.

There’s a meticulously organised bookshelf behind Jack’s desk that gives them a small bit of privacy from the other two TAs currently in the room. Jack keeps his voice soft as well when he speaks, though Bitty is beginning to understand that’s just how he is.

“Sorry for dragging you here,” Jack starts. “I thought it would be better not to do it in front of the class.”

Bitty does not like that as an opening sentence. He didn’t really think Jack was going to reprimand him again for the contents of his note, but maybe Bitty’s life is just that way now. One bad, uncomfortable thing after the other.

Bitty swallows and twists the strap of his bag around his hands. He tries to keep his breathing as even as possible but when he concentrates on doing so, he only seems to achieve the exact opposite.

Jack reaches to the bookshelf and pulls out a tin container covered with Van Gogh prints. Bitty’s forehead furrows as he watches Jack pull a small ring of keys out and turn to the filing cabinet beneath his desk. He unlocks the largest draw. Bitty bites his lip.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve kept them in here,” Jack tells Bitty. “I don’t think it’s the conventional way this is done but I, er, didn’t think about it when they called me.”

Jack’s back is to him, blocking Bitty’s view of what’s in the filing cabinet. When he finally spins around, Bitty’s eyes drop to his lap and his lips part. “That's…”

“Yours,” Jack finishes for him, hands around a brown leather satchel bag. “I checked when I went to collect it.”

Bitty presses his lips together and goes back to focusing on his breathing.

“Sorry,” Jack apologises. “I should have contacted you first. I actually… Well. I did, but then I realised.” Jack pushes a hand through his hair. “You’ll have a text from me. I didn’t realise until after I sent it how stupid that was.”

Bitty shakes his head. “Not stupid.”

“I knew I was going to see you this morning, so at that stage I didn’t bother emailing.”

Bitty’s eyes are still on Jack’s lap. He reaches out—his hand unsteady—and Jack passes the bag across to him. His bag. The one he lost two nights ago.

“Is it-” Bitty clears his throat. He looks up at Jack, not sure which emotion his face is choosing to display; his weariness, relief, worry, gratitude.

Bitty takes a deep breath. “Is it just the bag?”

“Wallet and phone in there too.”

Bitty exhales roughly. All that time wasted on the weekend sorting everything out and he doesn’t even care. He’s holding his bag.

He flips it open and looks through. Notebooks, pencil case, earphones, lip balm, even the plastic wrapped cookies he’d packed as a snack. He pulls his wallet out and opens it. By some miracle, all his cards are in there, from his credit card to his old library card. There’s no cash but he didn’t think he’d had any in there anyway.

“I’ll go, er, make some tea,” Jack says quietly, standing up and edging past Bitty.

“You don’t have to,” Bitty tells him but he takes too long to voice it, still pulling cards in and out of his wallet, and Jack’s long gone.

Bitty’s phone is dead but it’s definitely his. Beyonce lyrics on the case and the crack on the screen across the bottom right corner. There’s a phone charger plugged into the wall at Jack’s desk. The connection is wrong for Bitty’s phone but he keeps one in his bag which is also still in its usual pocket. He gets it out and switches the cords, hoping Jack won’t mind.

Jack’s still in the kitchenette so Bitty looks around his desk, waiting for his phone to have enough charge to turn on. The desk itself is mostly empty, with a whiteboard against the side wall filled with notes and print outs of timetables, and a tray filled with essays on the other side. The bookshelf shows more personality, with a few succulents on display among the alphabetically ordered books.

There’s two framed photographs on the second top shelf which Bitty stands to get a better look at. He recognises where the first is taken because he was in Jack’s house just the other night. Jack isn’t in the picture himself, but the TV set up and couches are an exact match. Three men and a woman sit crammed on the couch that faces the TV, all craning their necks to look at the camera. There’s a video game paused on the TV but Bitty can’t tell which. The second photo is Jack and another man—one from the first photo, with the moustache—in graduation robes on the Samwell green, holding diplomas.

“That was my graduation for my undergraduate degree.”

Bitty turns. Jack’s holding two mugs of tea. Bitty maneuvers around him in the small space between Jack’s desk and the bookshelf, sitting back on the spare seat.

“Milk?” Jack guesses, putting one down closer to Bitty and keeping the black tea for himself.

“Thanks, Jack.” Bitty pulls the mug closer to him. “You really didn’t have to.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” Jack smiles at Bitty. “So was everything there?” Jack asks, nodding to the bag.

“Yes, yes it was.” Bitty throws an arm over the bag in his lap and pulls it tighter against his body.

“I’m glad.” The way Jack smiles at Bitty makes his heart flip over.

“Me too. I feel like I owe you a million thank yous for getting it,” Bitty tells Jack earnestly. “I mean, it’s crazy. Like a miracle. I really didn’t think I was going to see it again.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jack flushes, looking down at his mug and taking a sip.

“You have to have done _something_. Otherwise this wouldn’t be here.”

Jack’s fingers shift around his mug. “All I did was leave my number with the police station when I picked you up,” he rushes like it’s no big deal, spinning his chair slightly so he’s not facing Bitty front on. “I knew you didn’t have your things. I said if they turned up they should call me.”

Bitty watches Jack put his tea on the desk and run his thumb up and down it’s side.

“Well, it was something to me,” Bitty says softly.

Jack lifts his head briefly to look at Bitty. Bitty’s heart does its little flip up and over again.

“Okay then,” Bitty says cheerily, trying to move on from the overly sentimental moment. He doesn’t want to make Jack uncomfortable by pushing any hint of feelings toward him.

“Not a million thank yous,” Bitty continues, sitting up in his chair. “What about one pie?”

Jack blinks. “Oh.”

“That means you’re thinking about it, right?” Bitty smiles. He’s missed Jack’s ‘oh’. “Thinking about saying yes?”

Jack shakes his head, spinning his chair back to face Bitty. “I was thinking that I remember the pie you brought in when you bribed your way into the course.”

Bitty flushes at the accusation and the way Jack’s mouth lifts up in one corner like he’s teasing him.

Bitty raises his mug in front of his face, trying to hide his heated cheeks. “I wouldn’t call it bribing,” he says sheepishly.

Jack laughs. “Oh, it didn’t bother me.”

Bitty raises his eyebrows at Jack.

“No, I mean—Obviously bribery isn’t something I’m condoning.” Bitty bites his lip as Jack flusters trying to explain. “I just meant it was a really good pie.”

Bitty nods, trying not to laugh at Jack’s expression.

“That came out wrong,” Jack says, shaking his head.

“So, that’s a yes to a thank you pie?” Bitty asks instead of teasing Jack more about it.

Bitty doesn’t wait for Jack’s ‘yes’, already set on making him one from back when Jack first collected him from the station. “What’s your favourite pie?”

“Oh.”

Bitty can’t help but smile at the sound.

“I’ve never thought about it,” Jack frowns. “I’m sure anything you make will be good.”

Bitty didn’t think his cheeks could get any warmer, but at Jack’s quiet compliment his body proves him wrong. “Okay. A surprise pie then. I promise it’ll be good.”

“I never said yes to the thank you pie,” Jack points out.

Bitty shrugs. “I never said yes to the tea.”

“But tea is much easier to make than a pie.”

Bitty laughs. “Not to me.” His heart flips over again. It seems to have decided he and Jack _are _teasing each other. Like friends.


	6. “Why do you keep misplacing everything, huh?”

Bitty dumps out the contents of both bags onto his bed when he gets back to his room. With everything out, he takes the time to look over the bag itself but there doesn’t seem to be anything suspicious about it. He opens his laptop, bringing up his page history to begin the arduous task of reactivating his bank cards. It’s much more enjoyable on this side though, plus, with his phone back, Bitty can finally listen to music as he works.

He breaks frequently from his task because he keeps remembering things like the lift of Jack’s lips when he teased Bitty, or the shape of his hands around his mug, his awkwardness to be in possession of Bitty’s things. Bitty’s body gets tingly and weightless and he looks at his returned bag and smiles, smiles, smiles.

By the time he’s sorted everything out, there’s an email from student services informing him his card is ready for collection. He doesn’t really need it now, but since he went to all that trouble and he’s going to be charged for it, he may as well collect it to have in case of emergency (he raps his knuckles on the wood of his desk as he thinks that, not wanting to tempt fate).

Bitty shuts down his laptop and plugs it in to charge, then turns to the jumble of items still spread across his bed. He repacks his regular bag methodically to double-check all of his possessions are there. He has everything except one item. His phone charger.

“Crap,” he says to himself, placing his hands on his hips. “Why do you keep misplacing everything, huh?”

At least this time he knows it’ll be easy to get it back. He knows exactly where it is. Plugged in to the socket at Jack’s desk. He ended up spending enough time with Jack talking over cups of tea that his phone is close to fully charged, so there’s no rush on it. But he will need to collect it today. Which means he’ll have to see Jack again. Bitty smiles at the silver lining of his situation.

Bitty brings his repacked bag with him to student services, keeping his hands wrapped around the strap as he walks, remembering Jack handing it to him and how their fingers had brushed.

There’s no one at the front desk when he gets there, though he can hear plenty of noise coming from the closed off area behind the desk. He presses the buzzer and waits for someone to come help him.

“One sec!” Someone yells from out of sight.

Bitty leans against the countertop and waits, running his eyes over the flyers on display. He flicks through one for library volunteers and another about on-campus tutoring until an extremely tall man finally emerges, wearing the terrible bright yellow shirt of student services. He actually manages to pull it off. Could be something to do with the cheekbones.

“Sorry about that. We’re two people short today so it’s more hectic than normal.” The guy smiles in that easy way extroverts can, with the assumption behind it that everyone is your friend. When he does, Eric gets a strange déjà vu, though he can’t pick why.

“Anyway,” the man interrupts Bitty’s pondering. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m here to collect a student ID? I got an email saying it was ready.”

“Name?” The man asks, sitting down and pulling a tray of envelopes toward him.

“Bittle. Eric Bittle.”

The guy flips through the envelopes once, then frowns and does it again. “Sorry,” he apologises, flicking through at a slower pace. “I was expecting these to be alphabetical, so it's— _ Ah-ha. _ There you go.”

Bitty grabs the envelope from him. “Thanks.”

“Justin!” someone yells from the office area.

Bitty and the man—Justin, apparently—turn towards the voice.

“That’s me,” the guy says, standing up. “You all good?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Justin smiles at him and bounds away into the back offices. Bitty watches as he goes, still trying to figure out why he looks familiar.

-

Bitty swings by Jack’s TA office on the way to his afternoon class. ‘Swings by’ is probably too loose a term, actually. He plans it and gets there with enough time that if Jack’s in they can talk a bit before he has to leave. He doesn’t know Jack’s schedule though, so Bitty crosses his fingers Jack will be there.

The door is open but there doesn’t seem to be anyone in the room. Bitty makes his way to Jack’s corner of the office, since the bookcase hides it from view when he’s at the front door, but the first impression of an empty room holds true. Jack’s not at his desk.

Bitty frowns, hopes dashed. He probably shouldn’t have fantasised so much about the cute “always losing your things, eh, Bittle” teasing they were going to have. He takes the time to poke his head into the kitchenette. There is someone in there, but not Jack.

Bitty waves politely at her and quickly pivots out before she can ask him what he’s doing in here. He feels a little like he’s trespassing without being obviously here with someone.

He has to pivot on his heel again at the office door when he realises his phone charger is still at Jack’s desk. Which is the real reason he came here. To collect his charger. Not to talk to Jack. Right? Right.

He double-checks the charger that’s still plugged in has the right connection (it does), then he pulls it out of the charger port, reconnects Jack’s charger and rolls his own up to put into his bag. He catches something out of the corner of his eye as he does.

Bitty steps up to Jack’s bookshelf and looks at his photographs again.

“Is that?” He reaches for one of the photos and brings it closer to make sure. On the couch in Jack’s house, squished second from the right between a blond man and the woman, is the guy from student services. Justin.

“Small world,” Bitty mutters to himself, returning the frame to its place on the shelf.

Bitty doesn’t know what to do with the information, but he has it now, filed in his brain with all the other random Jack-related knowledge, like his ‘oh’ thing and that he drinks black tea.

As the woman leaves the kitchen and double-takes at Bitty standing by Jack’s desk, Bitty realises he can’t dawdle in the office anymore. His class is a ten minute walk from here anyway, so he really should leave. He nods at the woman on his way out. She watches him with narrowed eyes and takes the most threatening bite of toast he’s ever seen anyone take.

Bitty exhales once in the corridor. Maybe he should have taken the time to leave a note for Jack that he came by and picked up his charger. Then it hits him. He has his phone back. He can text Jack.


	7. "So you’ll help me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally combined with another part on Tumblr, but I've split them up for the purpose of this platform.

Bitty bakes a thank you pie. Then he bakes another one. Then a third. After that he runs out of supplies. He feels like his Moomaw threatening to throw out every imperfect sponge cake she makes.

The problem is, he wants Jack’s pie to be perfect. He deserves a perfect pie. The tiny kitchenette Bitty’s using has an oven probably twice as old as him and he doesn’t know it enough to understand its quirks and every pie has had something wrong with it.

The solution, when it comes to him, is a little crazy. Actually, it’s probably a lot crazy. He figures the best approach is to not think too hard about it and just go for it, so Bitty takes the last of the imperfect apple pies and carries it carefully to the Student Centre. There’s someone at the desk when he gets there, but not the person he was looking for. He waits in line behind another student and thinks seriously about turning around and leaving. Jack doesn’t even have a favourite pie so Bitty doubts he’d find anything at fault with one of the pies Bitty has already made. By the time he’s decided he’d feel silly leaving now anyway, he’s at the front of the line.

“Hi. Is Justin in today?” He asks the woman at the desk.

“Yeah, he’s in his office,” she tells him.

“Could I speak to him please?” Bitty asks, trying not to make it sound like a big deal even though he’s certain you’re not meant to request specific staff members.

“Yeah, sure,” the woman agrees easily, picking up a phone and dialing. 

Justin comes out in another yellow shirt, cheekbones just as defined as Bitty recalls.

“You wanted to speak to me?” Justin asks Bitty.

Bitty offers Ransom the pie first and thankfully, that gets him an invite into the back office where there’s a kitchen with a microwave oven that Ransom heats two slices of pie in.

Bitty explains the situation as succinctly as he can, which isn’t all that succinct because he’s nervous. He tries not to go into much detail. He’s not sure what Justin knows of the other night and he doesn’t want to implicate Jack if he hasn’t said anything about it to Justin. Plus, he’s aware the ‘getting arrested’ aspect of the backstory isn’t the most sensible thing to bring up when trying to get Justin to agree to his plan.

“So, to summarise,” Justin says after Bitty falls silent, “you want to bake Jack a thank you pie.”

Bitty picks up his fork finally to have some of his untouched pie. Justin’s own slice of pie was demolished minutes ago as Bitty talked.

“Yes. I want to bake Jack a thank you pie,” Bitty confirms. 

“Sounds great, man. I mean, Jack’s not that big on indulging his sweet-tooth, but this pie is amazing, so I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. My question is…” Justin pushes his plate to the side and crosses his arms on the table. “Where do I fit into this?”

Bitty swallows his mouthful of pie. “I really need a proper kitchen. The one in the dorm building is… Not great.”

“Chyeah. Tell me about it,” Justin says with feeling. 

“And I was thinking…” Bitty pushes his fork into his pie slice to give himself something to look at as he finally reveals his plan to Justin. “I was wondering if I could use the kitchen at your place?”

Justin’s silent. Bitty lifts his gaze to see him looking at Bitty with an eyebrow raised. “Dude. This is the strangest come on ever.”

“No, no,” Bitty rushes to correct, feeling his cheeks grow hot that Justin assumed that about him, even after his whole story about Jack and wanting to bake a pie for Jack. 

“Sorry,” Justin apologises immediately. “My bad.”

Bitty tries to clear the air further. “I wasn’t trying to… Do that. It's—I really just want the kitchen. A kitchen. It’s not your kitchen in particular, it’s any kitchen, but I am asking about your kitchen because I-” He puts the fork down and takes a breath to reset. “You live with Jack, right?”

Justin frowns. “You know this how?”

Bitty groans inside his head. He keeps putting his foot in it. “Jack has a photo at his desk of you and in his house.”

“Oh. I know the one.” Justin nods slowly, expression clearing somewhat of his earlier suspicion. “And you know it’s his house how—Oh my god.” Justin runs the words together as his eyes widen. 

Justin points at his empty plate then looks to Bitty. “Pie. New student card. Been to Jack’s desk. Been to Jack’s house.” He checks the items off on his fingers as he says them. “You’re the guy from that class he TAs, aren’t you?” Justin asks Bitty, already smiling like he knows he’s right. “The one with the bribery pie.”

“It wasn’t a bribery pie,” Bitty responds immediately. 

Justin’s grin gets wider. “It  _ is  _ you.”

“I guess so?”

Justin leans back in his chair, shaking his head slowly. He runs his eyes over Bitty in a calculating way, not saying anything.

Bitty shifts in his chair. "So you’ll help me?” he asks Justin.

“Hell yeah, I’ll help you,” Justin says. He leans forward again and stretches his hand out to Bitty.


	8. “Eric? Is he here?”

Justin gives Bitty his cell number. (“It’s going to be much easier to plan this way.”) He turns out to be right, because Justin is on board from the get go, sending more texts than Jack and Bitty have sent to each other in their entire text history. And that’s just within the first 48 hours of agreeing to help Bitty.

_ Justin: How long do you need total? _

_ Justin: Should I send a list of the baking stuff we have here? _

_ Justin: Will you need fridge space? Let me know how much and I’ll clear space. _

Bitty’s a little overwhelmed by all the questions at first. He hadn’t pictured Justin getting involved any more than being there to open the door to let him in and making sure Jack wasn’t in the house at the time.

_ Justin: Can I bring the other housemates in on the plan? _

Bitty blinks at the text that’s just come in. Tomorrow he’s meant to go over to Jack’s place in the morning and bake a pie. Apparently, he tutors and should be out until mid-afternoon.

_ Bitty: How so? _

_ Justin: Let them know you’re going to be coming over.  _

_ Bitty: Of course! _

He hadn’t thought of that.

_ Bitty: It’s their house too. _

-

Justin offers to pick Bitty up on Sunday morning. Bitty turns him down twice before Justin guilts him into accepting because he knows how much ingredients and equipment Bitty is going to be bringing with him. Also, he keeps talking about an excel spreadsheet that causes great confusion in Bitty, so it seems easier to just accept the offer rather than working out what Justin means.

On Sunday morning, Bitty waits by the curb with his bags of ingredients and a box of specialised utensils. A Jeep parks on the street by the bench Bitty’s sitting on. He recognises it from the other night, though it looks newer than he remembered it being.

“Hey, Eric.” Justin jumps out of the driver’s side and immediately grabs one of Bitty’s bags. They load everything into the trunk, then Justin surprises Bitty by wrapping him in a hug. Bitty freezes in Justin’s arms.

Justin pulls back. “I’m sorry. That was probably crossing a line.” 

“It’s alright,” Bitty assures him. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“No, no.” Justin says. “Totally my bad for not asking.”

Bitty follows Justin’s lead and gets into the car. Justin waits until pulling away from the curb before continuing. “We’ve just been texting so much. I’ve talked to you more than Shitty this week. And we live together.”

“Shitty?” Bitty asks, thinking he’s misheard.

“Oh, yeah. One of the other housemates. Jack hasn’t talked about us with you?” Justin sounds surprised when he asks. Bitty doesn’t know why that particular tone. Jack and he aren’t really anything that would require Jack to talk about his friends to Bitty.

“No. We don’t really…I mean, we’re not that…” Bitty isn’t sure how to define what they are to each other. They were TA and student, but then there was that night at the police station, and Jack picked up his belongings for him and made him tea, and now Bitty’s making him a pie to say thanks. Either that’s going to mean the end of their…whatever it is. Or it’s going to turn their relationship into something else. Bitty has been trying not to focus on the latter possibility so much that it starts becoming something he sees as an inevitability.

“No, he hasn’t told me,” Bitty eventually tells Justin.

“Huh. I thought you-” Justin glances over at Bitty but stops speaking. “Well, I’ll give you the cliff notes now before you meet them.”

Bitty twists in his seat. “Meet them? They’re all going to be there?” Last Sunday there hadn’t been anybody in the house all morning. He knows Justin asked about filling them in, but he thought that was more general courtesy than because they were all going to be there.

“Yeah. Everyone’s in but Jack. And me and Holster—Adam—have that lunch thing I told you about. But Shitty and Lardo are there all day and totally fine with you being over. We all are.”

Using the kitchen in Jack’s place to make a pie is becoming much more of an event than Bitty had first thought. He thought he was going to make Jack the best pie he could possibly make and that would be that. Now he’s meeting Jack’s friends, who all seem to know of him and are eager to meet him. Or they could just be in it for the pie. He might actually prefer that. Getting to know Jack’s friends ties Jack and Bitty together even more.

“I brought home leftovers of that pie from the other day,” Justin continues, breaking Bitty from his thoughts about what it means if he becomes friends with Jack’s friends, which is presumptuous anyway and probably won’t happen. Even though Justin did hug him early. 

“They demolished that thing so fast,” Just says with awe. “So having you come over to cook the thank you pie is a little bit of self-interest on our parts. We’re hoping for a bit of whatever you make Jack.”

“That’s really sweet,” Bitty tells Justin. “But I can make y’all another pie if you really want one.”

Justin laughs easily. “Oh, that’s not necessary. Like I said, Jack’s not one to indulge his sweet-tooth often. I know you’re making the pie for Jack, but we all know Jack’s going to feel bad about eating a whole pie himself so he’ll offer us some to balance it out. It’s a win-win.”

“Alright.”

“Though a second pie would make it a win-win- _ win _ ,” Justin adds as they pull into the driveway.

“Well, just let me know what filling and I can do it. You probably deserve your own thank you pie for helping me out with this anyway.”

“Dude.” Justin parks the car and turns the engine off. “Did you forget you already gave me a whole pie?”

Bitty nods. “Right. I did.”

“Come on. Let’s introduce you.”

Bitty unbuckles his seat belt and helps Justin get everything out of the trunk. Justin never did give Bitty the cliff notes on Jack’s other housemates. He only has their names. Nothing for it now, he thinks as he follows Justin to the door. 

Justin uses his elbow to ring the doorbell. They only have to wait a few seconds before it’s opened by a man as tall as Justin, with blond hair and glasses.

“Hey, bro,” he greets Justin, stepping back to let them through. “And you must be Eric.”

“That’s me.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Adam.”

Adam gives off the same welcoming energy as Justin, and Bitty gets the feeling that if he wasn’t carrying a box with cooking supplies, Adam would be trying to hug him right now.

Justin leads Bitty into the kitchen where there are already a few mixing bowls, measuring cups and a hand-held electric mixer sitting out on the bench.

“I tried getting out the things you’d need,” Adam tells Bitty, “but honestly, my kitchen skills are pretty restricted and I gave up half-way through.”

“That’s alright.” 

Bitty puts his box down on the kitchen bench and takes his satchel bag off, leaving it on one of the dining chairs. There’s a laptop open on the dining table which Bitty glances at. He thinks it’s open to the excel spreadsheet Justin kept referring too, but there’s a second tab playing a Netflix show as well.

“Where are Shitty and Lardo?” Justin asks Adam as they both start to unpack Bitty’s bags of ingredients.

Adam shrugs. “Lardo’s in the garage. Haven’t seen Shitty in a while. Studying in his room maybe?”

“Did someone say my name?” A man walks in from the corridor at that moment, wearing patterned boxers and a crop top. It takes Bitty several seconds to place him as the man standing beside Jack in his graduation picture. His hair is cut shorter and the outfit is much more indecent. Bitty figures this must be ‘Shitty’. He’s still confused and concerned by the name, but if Adam and Justin both call him by it so easily, it must be what he really goes by.

“Oh, yo! A new face!” Shitty says, coming around to Bitty’s side.

“I’m Eric.”

“You are a beautiful man, Eric,” Shitty says with much enthusiasm, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Thank you?”

“You’ll get used to him eventually,” Adam says with no attempt to quiet his voice.

“That you will,” Shitty agrees. It must be a familiar topic of banter for them.

“I’m just coming to say hello and put a name to the face,” Shitty tells Bitty. “I don’t want to interrupt the pie magic. I shall be in my room, studying and cursing my past self for deciding to do law.”

He retreats back down the corridor, leaving Bitty overwhelmed but also amused and very curious as to how Jack and Shitty became friends. He remembers back to the night in the police station when Jack had said he had ‘poor taste in friends’ when Bitty asked why he was so familiar with the process of bailing someone out. Was he referring to Shitty? Though with Shitty studying law, Bitty’s not sure that theory works out.

“I should start on the pie,” he declares instead. He should have plenty of time to bake it and clean up after, but he knows it will take longer in an unfamiliar kitchen, and he doesn’t want to risk Jack seeing him.

“Cool. We’ll leave you to it,” Justin says. “Let me know if you need help with the oven or finding anything in the kitchen. We’ll be here another…hour and a bit,” Justin inform him after checking his watch.

“Thanks so much,” Bitty says to Justin again.

Justin disappears for a bit and Adam sits down at the dining table in front of the laptop, going back to whatever show he was watching. It takes Bitty a while to get everything sorted and ready to start on the crust, and another little while to shake the presence of Adam in the same area as him. Adam’s totally absorbed in his show, but every now and then lets out a loud laugh that startles Bitty. Bitty eventually plugs in his own earphones and listens to music. After that, slipping into the baking rhythm happens easily, and the crust is chilling in the fridge before Adam and Justin leave for their lunch.

Bitty meets Lardo while he’s working on the filling for the pie. 

“Hey,” she says. “Eric?”

Bitty nods. “Lardo?”

“Yep. That’s me.”

She’s in an oversized shirt and leggings, both of which are covered with paint splotches. Bitty hadn’t known what Adam meant earlier by saying Lardo was ‘in the garage’ but Bitty now assumes it’s a studio of some kind and she’s an artist.

“Smells good,” she tells him, coming over to peer into the pot he’s stirring on the stove.

“Thanks.”

That’s the extent of their conversation, though Lardo stays in the kitchen longer, working around Bitty to make a sandwich and grab a bottle of water which she takes with her out a back door Bitty hadn’t noticed before, which must lead to the backyard and garage. She seems more similar to Jack than the others, but a few words is hardly anything to go off of.

Bitty doesn’t see Shitty or Lardo again as he assembles the pie and gets it into the oven. He takes the earphones out at some point so he can plug his phone in to charge, but keeps the music playing softly. Bitty’s in the middle of making a maple custard to go with the pie when he hears the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He looks out the set of windows by the front door and his heart goes into overdrive.

It’s Jack’s car.

He stops the music playing on his phone and enters panic mode, looking around the kitchen at all the mess still spread out over the bench, the pie still cooking in the oven, his bag—which must be recognisable to Jack—sitting visibly on one of the chairs around the dining table. There’s no chance of hiding his presence.

The sound of the lock in the door spurs Bitty into action. If he wasn’t already aware he didn’t make good decisions under pressure, this moment would reveal that to him.

As the front door opens, Bitty ducks down to hide himself behind the kitchen cabinets.

He knows it’s stupid as soon as he does it, but he can’t bring himself to stand up again, though his brain is already letting him know that the longer he stays hidden the more obvious it will be that he was trying to hide when he inevitably has to reveal himself.

“Hello,” Jack calls loudly in greeting. 

Bitty worries for a moment that Jack saw him, but Jack follows it up by saying, “Who’s been cooking?”

Bitty’s heart jumps into his throat. That’s his queue, isn’t it. He should stand up and accept his fate.

Bitty hears someone running into the living room.

“Jack!” Shitty says at an unnaturally loud volume Bitty knows is meant to warn him. Too late. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah, my last two students cancelled on me,” Jack replies, then asks, “This you?” 

He must be referring to the obvious signs of baking.

“Yep. Yeah,” Shitty agrees, sounding a little manic to Bitty’s ears. “You know me, always trying out new hobbies.”

“I thought you had a big exam you were studying for?” Jack questions.

Bitty feels touched that Shitty’s trying to cover him but he knows it’s not going to work. Especially as he hears Jack walking over to the kitchen where Bitty knows his phone is sitting, case up, on the bench.

Bitty’s counting down the seconds he has left before being found out, embarrassment crawling through him, when the final nail in the coffin of his awkward situation comes in the form of Lardo walking back in through the back door and announcing, “Damn, Eric. That pie smells fantastic.”

A few things happen at the same time.

Lardo notices Bitty crouched behind the counter top and her jaw drops.

“Well fuck,” Shitty announces.

“Eric?” Jack asks.

Bitty doesn’t move for a second, not until Jack repeats his name.

“Eric? Is he here?”

Lardo pulls her eyes from him quickly but Bitty knows he’s been found out.

He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, then he stands up from his crouch, revealing himself to Jack and Shitty.

“Yes. I’m here. Hi, Jack.”


	9. “What’s your compromise then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry for the late posting, but better late than never!)

No one says anything for what feels like several minutes to Bitty. Logically, he knows it can’t be that long, because that would be ridiculous, but the number of thoughts his brain manages to fire at him is so high that it’s hard to accept they all came in a period closer to six seconds.

“Hi, Eric.” Jack sounds uncommonly nonplussed to find Bitty in his kitchen. He’s actually smiling at Bitty, too. A nice soft smile that causes fluttering in Bitty’s stomach.

“Hi,” Bitty says again, twisting his hands together, unable to take his eyes off Jack. He looks good. Bitty hasn’t actually seen him since Monday and it’s like he’s being hit with it all over again; his attraction to Jack.

The thought doesn’t help his already flustered state.

The sound of bubbling distracts Bitty. 

“Oh no!” Bitty yells, turning and rushing to the stove top. He snatches the saucepan and moves it off the heat, but he knows as he stirs it that his panic and following minutes of inattention has ruined the custard.

“Everything alright?” Jack asks him.

“My custard,” Bitty says helplessly, continuing to whisk the curdled mess.

Lardo crosses by Bitty to turn the heat off on the stovetop.

“Looks fine to me,” she says.

Bitty shakes his head.

“It’s split,” Jack remarks.

“You can tell that from over here?” Shitty asks Jack. They’re still on the other side of the kitchen counter.

“I do TA a food class,” Jack replies.

“I should’ve been stirring it—keeping my eye on it,” Bitty explains to Shitty. “It’s one of those things where an extra few seconds can ruin it.” Bitty stops his futile whisking and puts the pan back on the stovetop.

There’s silence again. 

“Why are you making custard anyway?” Jack asks Bitty. “Wait. Actually. Why are you making custard  _ here _ ?”

Bitty sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “The custard is for the pie. Your thank you pie.”

Jack frowns. “I thought we decided I didn’t need one.”

“No. You decided that.”

“And the ‘here’ part?” Jack prompts.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Bitty tells him, kicking the heel of his shoe against the counter before catching himself.

“Why not?” Jack asks him.

“I didn’t want to intrude, or-”  _ give you the wrong idea _ , Bitty doesn’t say. Though in this case, the wrong ideas—that Bitty is interested in Jack—is accurate. But Jack’s explained his boundaries to Bitty and he’s not going to cross them or even get close enough to toe the line. Really. As much as he wants to. Really wants to.

“What about the kitchen in your dorm?” Jack asks Bitty.

“I ruined three whole pies in that terrible oven.”

_ “You baked three _ -” Jack starts but cuts himself off with a shake of his head. 

“Coming back to the ‘here’, how did you get in? Do you know each other?” Jack asks, looking between Shitty, Lardo and Bitty.

“We don’t,” Shitty says.

“Just met him today,” Lardo adds.

Jack turns back to Bitty “Then how…”

“I met Justin at the Student Centre the other day and I recognised him from one of the photos in your office. He helped me set this up.”

Jack nods slowly. “I should have guessed. Justin seems to know everyone.”

There’s silence again, broken this time by Lardo.

“I’m going to head back to the studio,” she announces. “Shitty?”

“Yep. Me too,” Shitty agrees straight away.

“Sorry ‘bout the custard,” Lardo tells Bitty as she walks past.

“Thanks.”

Lardo and Shitty exit out the back door and then it’s just Bitty and Jack in the kitchen.

Bitty isn’t sure what the next step is. He’d offer to leave, but Jack’s pie is still cooking in the oven and he can’t abandon it. Plus, there’s all the mess on the bench he needs to clean up. 

“So. A thank you pie, eh.” Jack comes around the counter into the kitchen and crouches to peer inside the oven. “What kind did you go for? Since I didn’t have a favourite.”

Bitty blinks down at Jack, crouched so his face is level with Bitty’s hips. His hair looks so nice and thick. Bitty thinks about reaching out and touching it. He swallows roughly. 

“Apple,” he tells Jack. “It’s a classic.”

Jack grins and straightens up. “Your bribery pie was apple, too.”

Bitty rolls his eyes. “It was  _ not  _ a bribery pie.”

Jack shrugs and Bitty knows he’s never going to change Jack’s mind about it being a bribery pie. 

Jack reaches for the ruined custard from the stove-top and carries it over to the sink. 

“What are you doing?” Bitty asks him.

“Cleaning up.”

“Oh, no. Jack.” Bitty moves to take the saucepan from him. “You don’t have to.”

Jack lifts the saucepan in the air, too high for Bitty to reach.

“ _ Jack _ ,” Bitty huffs, not even attempting to reach for the pan.

Jack smiles teasingly at Bitty and his stomach somersaults. 

“It’s my house,” Jack claims. “You’re the guest. I get to clean up.”

“That is not how that works. I should clean up to thank you for your hospitality.”

“How about, my house, my rules?” Jack tries, saucepan still lifted in the air.

“Jack. Really. I can do it. You weren’t even meant to know I’d been here.”

“Compromise?” Jack brings the pan down and puts it in the sink. “I’ll wash this one pan for you, and you can make a new batch of custard.”

“I was going to make more custard anyway,” Bitty tells him.

“And I was going to wash this pan.”

In the silence of their stalemate, Bitty’s stomach flips over again.

“What’s your compromise then?” Jack offers.

“Um.” Bitty tries to think of something but in hindsight, Jack’s suggestion was actually very reasonable. “You sit down and I do everything?” Bitty tries, knowing Jack’s never going to go for it. After all, this is the guy who came to the rescue of a person he barely knew in the middle of the night.

Jack laughs when Bitty phrases it as a question.

After the pan is clean and Bitty’s second round of custard is on the go, Jack does sit down, spinning a chair from the dining table so it faces into the kitchen.

“I feel like I’m being assessed on this,” Bitty comments, feeling the weight of Jack’s gaze on him as he cooks. It’s a little lie, but Bitty needs to misdirect from the actual feelings that being alone in Jack’s kitchen with Jack’s attention on him is bringing up. Stomach flipping, face heating kind of feelings.

“Sorry. Should I come over and help?” Jack offers, already getting up.

“No! I only just got you sitting down!” It had come with a second-hand benefit of clearing Bitty’s head somewhat, having enough space between himself and Jack’s body that he couldn’t smell him anymore.

Jack sits back in the chair. “Well you know I’ve already had one of your pies, and if that was assessed it would get top marks.”

Bitty’s heart flops even though Jack’s comment is innocent enough.

“Is that why you didn’t want me here?” Jack asks him after a moment. “Is it uncomfortable for you that I’m your TA?”

Uncomfortable is not the word Bitty would use. Unfortunate is maybe closer.

“No. Not at all,” Bitty assures Jack. “I actually…I didn’t want to make  _ you _ uncomfortable.”

“How could you make me uncomfortable?” Jack asks.

“The same reason.” Bitty looks over at Jack, who’s sitting politely in the chair still, hands clasped together on his lap. “You being a TA and me being in your class. I know your feelings about relationship in that context.”

Jack’s eyebrows raise. “Oh.”

Bitty turns his attention back to the custard, giving Jack time to think of what to say.

It’s a shock when it comes. But the good kind, like finding $20 in your pocket.

“I actually feel very comfortable with you.”

Bitty accidentally flicks some custard out of the pan with a jerky motion. He’s glad he’s not looking at Jack, because he feels his cheeks heat and his palms get clammy.

What a thing to say to Bitty when he’s just standing minding his own business trying not to fuel the fire of his attraction to Jack any more than he has already just by seeing him and being around him. He tries to quash his reaction down but the way Jack said it, so calm and simple. So honest. 

Bitty has to bite down on his lip to hide a smile.

Of course, that’s when Jack says something else—just as simple, just as calmly, just as honest—that makes Bitty’s emotions dive in the opposite direction. 

“I only said that because I thought you were going to ask me out. I have no issue with us being friends.”

Bitty pauses his stirring for a moment and shock punches into him.

He clears his throat, stomach turning. “Right. Yes. Of course.” 

Bitty feels a fool for assuming, for taking Jack’s confession and immediately projecting his own fantasy onto it. He forces a laugh and keeps his eyes away from Jack in case they’re doing something stupid like tearing up. He’d been trying so hard not to get his hopes up, but as his throat tightens and his stomach turns over, Bitty realises he’s failed big time.

“Friends,” Bitty says, overdoing his commitment to the syllable hoping it’ll make his brain and heart switch gears. Because friendship isn’t nothing. Friends means more time with Jack. And the horrible, sappy truth of the matter is, after a night or two agonising over this, Bitty knows he’s going to be glad to be Jack’s friend.

“We can be friends,” Bitty says again. 

“I’m glad you think so. After all, you’ve got my number, you’ve been in my car, I’ve seen you cry,” Jack lists off. “Plus, I’ve bailed you out of jail. I think that’s a solid basis for friendship.”

Bitty notices Jack has left out that fact he’s also spent the night in Jack’s bedroom.


	10. “Are you ever going to tell me why you were in jail?”

Bitty’s never had a friendship start—after first grade, at least—by having it declared out loud. With him and Jack’s unconventional history though, it suits them.

Jack invites Bitty to stay and share his thank you pie and he won't hear a word of Bitty's protests. Not that Bitty protests for long. He enjoys being with Jack, and now that they've declared their friendship, it doesn't feel as though Bitty's taking advantage of Jack's kindness to stay, even though a whisper in the back of his head reminds him that five minutes ago he was hoping for more.

"Friends don't let friends  _ not _ eat your pie," Jack says which is flattering and also very funny. The obvious humour surprises Bitty and he laughs with a kind of breathy giddiness before quickly having a bite of his pie to hide how embarrassed he is by the sound that just came out of him.

"This custard is amazing," Jack says, licking some off his fork.

Bitty valiantly keeps his eyes on his own plate, because friends shouldn't see friends licking a utensil and have the kind of flashes of image Bitty is having.

"What did you put in here?" Jack asks him.

"Maple," Bitty answers quickly, glad for the distraction.

Jack hums in appreciation. "Do you have a recipe? I know my dad would love this."

"Sure. It's not finessed yet but when it's done I'll send it to you."

"Great." Jack grins at Bitty and takes another bite of the pie.

"I want to hear the full story," Jack requests as they eat. "How did you and Justin set this up?"

"There's not too much to it. I met him at the Student Centre when I went to pick up a new student ID to replace the one I temporarily lost when I was arrested that night." 

Bitty pauses to take a bite of pie and Jack jumps in with a question.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you were in jail?”

Bitty chokes on his mouthful. So much coughing ensues that Jack goes to fetch him a glass of water.

“Should I take that as a no?” Jack says when Bitty’s finally finished making a fool of himself.

“Sorry,” Bitty says, voice rough from the coughing. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask outright.”

“I’ve been curious," Jack says with a shrug.

Bitty’s brain helpfully points out that means Jack’s been thinking about him.

“I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day, I think,” Bitty says truthfully, remembering ducking behind the counter in a moment of stupid blind panic.

Jack lets it slide, but Bitty knows that now they’re explicitly friends he’ll have to tell Jack eventually. For now, he moves back to his story, filling in all the details.

"So I just up and asked him if I could use the kitchen," Bitty wraps up. "Wasn't my smoothest moment. He, uh, thought I was coming on to him for a hot second."

Jack's eyes widen. "He did? Were you?"

"No!" It comes out maybe a little too horrified from the amused look Jack shoots him.

"Why did he think that then?"

"Well I think it was the inviting myself over to your house part. And the pie thing he might have read as… Not being about a pie? I don't know."

"Yes. The classic pie euphemism. Because asking to go over to the house of someone who doesn't know you hadn't already implied that," Jack says with a dry sarcasm.

"But it  _ was _ just to make a pie!" Bitty defends.

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Jack continues teasing.

" _ Ugh _ !" Bitty drops his head onto the table.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just messing with you."

"Yeah, well." Bitty lifts his head off the table and mock-glares at Jack. "Maybe you and your friends shouldn't go around assuming everyone wants to ask them out?"

"Oh." Jack blinks. "Fair point. I promise that's not a trait we all share."

"Could've fooled me," Bitty says, sliding some more pie onto his fork. "I'm basically three for five. I think Adam proposed marriage to me earlier? Though maybe that's not quite the same situation."

Bitty shrugs and puts the forkful into his mouth.

“I never apologised for that, did I.” Jack says as Bitty is chewing.

“For what?” Bitty asks, discombobulated by the shift to something serious in Jack's eyes. He doesn't know how Jack got there from the teasing of moments ago.

“For assuming you were interested in me."

Bitty freezes in his seat, trying not to give away the fact that he definitely still is. He needs time to shape his feelings toward Jack into friendship and not what they are now. Which he will do. Soon. Probably. He'll try at least.

"I’m not actually that egotistical," Jack tells Bitty, frowning. "That’s not quite the right word. Self-centered?” Jack tries again.

“It’s alright. There’s nothing to apologise for.” Bitty interrupts before Jack can have a third go. He’s quite ready to move on from this conversation topic. The less time spent actively taking about it, the less chance for Jack to realise Bitty's feeling the exact way about him Jack's trying to say he doesn't.

Bitty takes a deep breath and tries to speak past the ball lodged in his throat from his haywire thoughts. “We’re already stuck in a thank you loop,” he tells Jack. “We can’t get ourselves into an apology loop as well.”

Jack nods. “Okay then.”

“Besides. Apologies don’t always have to be verbal," Bitty reminds Jack. "I think you've made yours already." Bitty nods to his satchel bag that Jack returned to him after class the other day.

"Right. No more apologies."

Bitty racks his brain for something to bring the mood back around to the light banter they had earlier.

“Justin was under the impression that he’d get some of your thank you pie," Bitty tells Jack.

Jack reaches his hand for the pie platter and drags it toward him, curling a protective arm around it in a way that makes Bitty smile and have to tell his heart to behave. 

Jack pouts and the playfulness catches Bitty by surprise again. He almost giggles. 

"What if I don’t want to share?”

“Oh, you don’t have to," Bitty assures him. "I already told Justin I’d be happy to make him his own pie.”

“Hang on. I’m remembering something. What was it?” Jack holds a hand up beside his head and screws his eyes shut. Bitty watches his eyes dart back and forth beneath his closed eyelids. “Yes. That’s it.” Jack opens his eyes. “Didn’t you just tell me a story where you already gave him a  _ whole apple pie?” _

Bitty’s jaw drops and Jack laughs.

“If friendship with you means getting teased this much…” Bitty threatens with absolutely no intention to follow through.

Jack laughs again. “How about we officially call an end to our thank you loop too, eh?”

Bitty’s lips lift up. He remembers thinking a few hours ago that him making Jack’s thank you pie was going to either mean the end of the back-and-forth exchanges of thanks, or the start of a friendship. Looks like he’s getting both **.**


	11. “Haven’t you ever heard that baking is a science?”

Bitty isn’t sure what to expect in class on Monday, whether it’s going to be any different now that he and Jack are friends. It’s surprisingly normal when he does turn up for the class, except for the fact that Jack smiles at him when he enters the room. It’s a bit of a let down if Bitty’s honest with himself, but in hindsight, he shouldn’t have expected preferential treatment from Jack during class time.

What is unexpected is to receive a call from Jack on Wednesday in the early evening as he’s about to leave for the dining hall to get dinner.

“Hello?” Bitty answers, uncertain that it really is Jack even though the caller ID tells him it is.

“Hi, Eric.” Yep. That’s Jack’s voice for sure.

“Hi,” Bitty says a little belatedly, still surprised that the first time they’re talking after the weekend is because Jack had called him. He was expecting to ease into their new friendship with texting first, at least.

“Uh, this is Jack.”

“Sorry, yes, I know.” Bitty grimaces and presses a palm to his forehead. “My phone said. I just wasn’t expecting you to call me,” Bitty says honestly, heart a-flutter to realise Jack really has called him out of the blue.

“Do you prefer texts?” Jack asks him.

Bitty tries not to feel touched by the question and Jack’s consideration. “No, no. Calls are all good. Though I do miss the ability to use emojis.”

“Oh. You’re one of _those _people.”

Bitty smiles at the teasing. “I hope that’s not judgement in your voice." 

"Of course not,” Jack replies easily with a laugh. “But okay. Calls are good. Noted.”

Bitty checks he has his student card and wallet before shutting the door and exiting his dorm. “So why the call?”

“I have a question and you’re the first person I thought of who can answer it.”

Bitty’s eyebrows rise and his stomach does what might be described as a cartwheel. Jack thought of him first. He’s glad Jack isn’t here to see his mile-wide smile. It might reveal a little too much about his feelings toward him. The ones he isn’t supposed to have.

“I’ll give it a go,” Bitty announces. 

Jack laughs again. Bitty’s getting used to hearing the sound, yet it still makes his stomach clench every time. “Don’t sound so worried. It’s about baking.”

“You should have led with that,” Bitty reprimands without heat. “You got my heart racing.”

“Sorry. It’s about sponge cake. You have experience with them?”

“Yeah. My Moo-maw loves them.”

“‘Moo-maw’?” Jack asks.

“My grandmother.”

“Right. So." 

Bitty slows his walking down to pay better attention to what Jack’s saying as he explains his query. 

"Well first off,” Bitty says when Jack finishes. “Is it wheaten cornflour or one-hundred percent corn? And also, how have they greased the pans? Is it spray, butter? Did they flour it as well? Oh! And the pan. Does it say if it’s aluminium or not?”

Bitty waits for answers from Jack. None come.

“Jack?” Bitty stops on the sidewalk like that will increase his ability to hear.

“That was a lot of questions all at once,” Jack says, sounding stunned.

“Haven’t you ever heard that baking is a science?” Bitty teases.

“I have, actually. Maybe that’s why I struggle so much with it.”

“How did you get to be TA of a food class then?” Bitty asks him, one part joking and at least three parts because he’s interested in everything about Jack.

“Hey! Don’t forget the women and American culture component. Guess my feminist-historian side pulled me over the line,” Jack says, then tacks on, “Or maybe not enough people went for the job.”

“I’m sure it was the former.”

“Ha. Thanks.” Jack sighs out. “This is turning out to be more complicated than I was expecting. I’m probably going to be here another two hours at least.”

Bitty checks his watch and frowns. “You’re still on campus?" 

"I need to finish marking these practice essays before I head home.”

Bitty didn’t realise there was such a thing as a practise essay, let alone that he had the option of writing one for this class.

“Hey, have you eaten yet?” Jack asks abruptly, changing topics.

“No. I’m just walking over to the dining hall now.”

“Do you want to have dinner with me instead?” Jack offers. “Talk me through the sponge cake thing in person?”

Bitty knows it’s a friendly gesture but his pulse quickens all the same. He hasn’t gotten around to talking himself out of his crush and dinner with Jack is almost date-like.

“I’ve got take-out on its way,” Jack continues. “There should be enough for you. Thai. Sound good?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bitty says because he does like Thai food.

“Great.” Jack takes it as him agreeing to join him for dinner. “I’ll see you soon then. It’s just me in the office, so come straight in when you get here.”

Jack hangs up, leaving Bitty no choice but to head over to the TA offices. He knocks on the door when he gets there and walks in without waiting for an answer. Jack isn’t in sight but there’s two plates and some cutlery set up on the large communal table in the middle of the room.

“Jack?” Bitty calls.

“In the kitchen. Give me a sec.”

Bitty stands beside the table, pushing his fingers down into the top of it, trying to take steady breaths to calm his racing heart. He’s eaten with Jack before. Two people eating dinner together shouldn’t be cause for so much feeling inside him, feelings he’s meant to have talked himself out of by now. 

Jack emerges from the kitchen with two glasses of water and a roll of paper towel shoved under his arm. “Hey, Eric. How’s it going?”

“Fine. Good.” Bitty hopes Jack doesn’t push the matter because he’s actually feeling decidedly not fine right at this second.

Jack looks really good tonight, which really shouldn’t be a shock to Bitty anymore but really still is. Like, made-his-breath-catch good with that smile and tousled hair. Bitty feels a little faint and lightheaded.

“I’m glad you’re joining me,” Jack says with a smile Bitty would love to kiss. “Feels a little less sad to be eating take-out alone in the office with you here.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Food’s probably another 10,” Jack informs Bitty, dropping the items on the table. “Do you wanna help me with that sponge cake thing while we wait?”

Bitty nods and Jack leads them to his desk where his marking is layed out. Bitty asks Jack his questions again and even though he can’t fully explain the reasoning behind some things, Jack seems pleased with his input and manages to finish marking the particular essay just as he gets a text his food is downstairs.

Bitty spends the time Jack’s away engaged in a stern talk with himself about how he and Jack are friends only. His crush seems so painfully obvious to him he doesn’t know why Jack isn’t calling him out on it. He feels permanently flushed in Jack’s presence. He tries to see whether he can see it in the reflection of the microwave door in the kitchen but no luck. He splashes some cold water on his face anyway to be safe.

Bitty doesn’t know where Jack got the food from, but it’s better than the place Bitty’s been to a few times. Probably more expensive for it but Jack refuses Bitty’s money when he offers it, saying it’s payment for his help on the essay. It feels a little like they’re returning to their thank you loop but Bitty doesn’t call it out. It’s like a thing between them now.

“Do you bake?” Bitty asks Jack during their dinner, curious.

Jack shakes his head, swallowing his mouthful of noodles. “Only on special occasions.” He paused then adds. “Which I probably make less special with my baked goods.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Sure it can,” Jack argues. “If I ever made you a thank you pie I’d have to immediately make you an apology pie to make up for it. Especially since I’ve had a few of your pies now and I know what they should taste like.”

Bitty’s cheeks heat. He blames the chilli in the rice dish he’s eating.

“And actually, while we’re on the topic, I have a proposal for you.” Jack puts down his fork and crosses his arms on the table.

Bitty’s heart flips inappropriately at the word 'proposal’.

“What is it?” he asks Jack.

“Would you be interested in giving me cooking lessons?”

“What for?”

“I’m going to be TA-ing this class again next semester and it’s like I said, this is the area where I’m weakest.”

“I’m not a trained cook or anything though,” Bitty tells Jack. “I’m just self taught.”

Jack dismisses Bitty’s worry with a shake of his head. “That’s fine for this level of stuff. Look how much you helped with that sponge cake thing.”

“Um.” Bitty picks up his water and takes a sip. He still isn’t used to hearing praise from Jack, and about his cooking too, something that means a lot to him. It makes a very warm feeling spread through his insides.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Jack tells Bitty. 

“Okay.”

“And obviously we can do it at my house,” Jack offers.

It is tempting to have access to a real kitchen again. “I’ll think about it,” Bitty says.

Jack smiles at him and starts back in on his food.

Bitty wasn’t lying, he will think about it. It’s just, most of what he’ll be thinking about isn’t if he’ll say yes—he’s incapable of turning down more time with Jack. It’s how, if he’s going to be spending even more one-on-one time with Jack, how to make sure his crush doesn’t come out in an obvious, undeniable, _irrefutable_ way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one chapter away from catching up to what has been posted to tumblr, meaning updates may become less frequent than weekly after that. See you next time!


	12. "Up for a few more students?"

A greater man than Bitty would feel guilty for putting so much effort into preparing for his first cooking class with Jack, but Bitty has learned that when it comes to spending more time with Jack, he is shameless. He has also learned that his feelings for Jack are far too large to squish into the mold of only friendship; they bleed out all over the place prompted by the smallest things. With only three weeks left of term there’s little he can do but cross his fingers Jack remains oblivious.

Jack gets the ball rolling quickly for the cooking classes and come Saturday, Bitty is back at Jack's house. Jack greets him at the door and there's a strange moment where Bitty swears he's going in for a hug before Jack slides one of the bags off Bitty's shoulder instead.

"Thanks for coming," Jack says to him. When he smiles at Bitty, some more of his more-than-friendship feelings push out.

"No problem at all." Bitty tries to keep his answering smile cheery and not hopelessly fond.

"And sorry, again, for my friends butting in on this."

"It's not a problem," Bitty assures. "And we decided not to get into an apology loop, remember."

Jack laughs. Bitty's heart flips.

Jack's text this morning ( _ Up for a few more students? The others found out and want to join. Okay with you? _ ) had pricked a small hole in Bitty's enthusiasm, but on the upside, hopefully with more people around Bitty will manage to keep himself thinking his friendly thoughts regarding Jack and not picturing him in only an apron, like he's dreamt of the past few nights.

"I was trying to keep this one-on-one," Jack informs him, "but the lure of your cooking is too strong."

Bitty flushes, though it's not news to him that Jack complimenting his cooking is a turn on for him.

Cooking class is messy and Bitty is being polite phrasing it that way. He's pretty sure a third of the flour is sacrificed to the kitchen counter and Shitty loses his shirt very early instead of wearing an apron. Ransom and Holster are fine but loud and eat half their muffin batter before it makes it into the muffin tray. Lardo gets creative with her fillings but follows along well enough outside of that. And Jack.

Jack's a model student. He gives his attention to Bitty despite the cacophony his friends cause. He asks questions at each step which Bitty finds endearing, and he's the one most concerned with getting Bitty's approval. "Is this consistency right?" "Is this how I measure the flour?" "What's the best way to push it off the spoon?" Bitty goes to his side every time and when he stares into Jack's blue, blue eyes to make sure he's following Bitty's explanations, he tries not to fall headfirst into their depths. It's astronomically hard when Bitty gives Jack an encouraging compliment and Jack's darn mouth gets involved with a pleased smile. Bitty's stomach is swooping all over the place. He's a fan of a good rollercoaster but with both feet flat on the ground it's a whole new experience.

Bitty is barred again from clean up. 

"Sit down," Jack commands him once the muffins are in the oven. His hands push at Bitty's shoulders to get him into one of the seats at the dining table facing the kitchen. "We've got this."

Jack grins as he shoves Bitty into the seat, departing with a wink that makes Bitty's heart flip over. He's actually worried about his internal organs with all the gymnastics they've been doing in the past hour.

He folds his arms on the dining table and watches Jack and his friends. 

"Music?" Justin requests

"On it!" Adam connects his phone to a Bluetooth speaker and soon the sounds of pop flood the kitchen. 

Bitty watches them all manoeuvre around the space, impressive because it's so small and aside from Lardo, everyone else is large in stature. The fact that they aren't bumping into each other every second speaks to how close these people are. Bitty sighs, biting down on his lip, feeling for a moment like the outsider to not be there with everyone even though he has a reason not to.

He slips his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture. Shitty sweeping up flour, Adam and Justin at the sink, Lardo wiping down the counter top and Jack putting dishes away.

He thought he was subtle, but when he looks back at the photo he's just taken, he notices Jack is looking right at him. His expression soft, fond even, and his gaze focused just a little off from the lens. He was looking at Bitty, not the phone.

Bitty swallows and looks back up but Jack's head is turned away.

He puts the phone back into his pocket and forces away thoughts of Jack having a romantic interest in him. Now is not the time or place to have them, especially as the dishes are complete and Shitty pulls Bitty up and into an impromptu waltz. It doesn't fit the music at all but Bitty laughs and lets himself be led around the living room anyway, wondering if it's more people than just Jack that he's friends with now.

-

That evening, back in his dorm, Bitty loads the photo he took onto his computer for the sole purpose of being able to zoom in on Jack's face. He leans back in his chair and worries at his lip. It certainly looks like… Something.

Something that Bitty shouldn't be seeing on Jack's face but that is familiar to him from seeing it on his own face.

Bitty knows the smart thing to do would be nothing. To ignore what he thinks he's seeing—because there is the possibility he's projecting—and not mention it to Jack. There's only three weeks left of the class and then the exam. He shouldn't rock the boat now. He knows that after the course is done, he'll still be friends with Jack. There'll be other opportunities. Better ones, probably. Bitty still recalls Jack's speech from that night at the police station, about the hierarchy. Considering that, Bitty definitely should not do anything.

His brain won't let it go as he tries to sleep, logic overridden by the restlessness at needing to know what the expression on Jack's face was.

He groans and rolls over to grab his phone from the bedside table. Unlocking it, the photo is still up from earlier.

He stares at it some more but only sees what he did earlier; Jack looking at him like he's someone special.

He takes a deep breath and holds it, taps his screen a few times, and sends the picture to Jack.


	13. "You're not sick of pie?"

Bitty wakes up Sunday to a text from Jack.

_ Haha. Nice. _

The reaction is less elucidating than Bitty was hoping for. What's nice? That Bitty has shared the photo? The scene in the photo? The composition of the photo? 

They don't text again on the weekend, which is good because Bitty has a few assignments to catch up on (not that that stops him from thinking about Jack often, beginning to regret sending the photo), but after class on Monday Jack jogs up the stairs to Bitty after the conclusion of the lecture.

"Hey, Eric."

Bitty can't help but smile, even if there is a thread of nerves in him about where he and Jack stand now. If what he's imagining Jack feels is only in his imagination. 

Since the thing with the photo was a bust, Bitty's wondering if he's going to have to actually ask Jack outright about his feelings after the semester is over. It's a scary thought but Bitty has fallen so much for Jack that the potential payoff is worth any embarrassment.

"Hi, Jack."

Jack sits in the seat beside Bitty as he finishes packing up his stuff.

"Are you free this weekend?" Jack asks him.

Bitty’s pulse ticks up a notch. He nods.

"Great. I was hoping we could do another baking lesson?" Jack asks with enthusiasm.

Bitty thinks of the assignments that he didn't manage to finish on the weekend. He thinks about hanging out with Jack again.

"I'm free either day," Bitty tells Jack honestly. His school work will be fine to fit in around another baking session. 

"Great," Jack repeats, standing and waiting for Bitty in the aisle so they can walk out of the lecture hall together. "I teach a class at the gym Sunday morning but I'm free all Saturday."

Bitty realises this is probably the reason Jack wasn't home the morning after he rescued Bitty from the police station those few weeks ago.

"That's fine for me."

"I promise it'll just be us this time," Jack tells Bitty as they ascend the steps. "Ransom and Holster are at a student union conference all weekend and Lardo and Shitty are doing a mini road trip."

It takes Bitty a second to remember which nickname matches which roommate, meanwhile his heart trips excitedly at the thought of not just more time with Jack, but more time  _ alone _ with Jack.

Maybe he could bring up the photo again and try to understand what the two word text Jack sent actually means.

Jack pushes the door open and holds it for Bitty to walk through. Bitty can smell his shampoo as he passes by. 

"Anything in particular you want me to teach you?" Bitty asks. He isn't sure where Jack is heading now, but he starts walking them in the direction of his next class.

"Well I know pies are your thing." Jack bumps an elbow gently against Bitty's arm. "I was thinking one of those?"

"You're not sick of pie?"

"Of  _ your _ pie? Never," Jack jokes, smiling, but Bitty knows the compliment is sincere.

"Okay. I can do pie." Bitty nods, feeling pleased by the compliment. "Savoury? Sweet?"

"Baker's choice?" Jack suggests.

"You're going to be the baker for this," Bitty points out.

"Then savoury, please," Jack chooses.

"Okay, let me think. Um…" Bitty's collection of savoury pie recipes he feels confident enough to teach is far smaller than his list of sweet options. Remembering this is meant to help Jack TA the course again next year helps narrow the list further.

"How about the beef and sweet potato pie we studied at the start of term?"

Bitty put a lot of practical study into that one.

"Sounds perfect." Jack smiles. "I'll text you and we can figure out a game plan."

Jack departs, backtracking along the route Bitty has been walking them in.

Bitty lets out a slow breath. He and Jack alone together for as long as it takes to bake a pie. He hopes he's ready. There won't be anyone to diffuse the emotions Bitty's going to feel having Jack's attention on him this time.

-

Jack texts Bitty on Tuesday.

_ I'll pick you up from your dorm and we can buy ingredients together. Can you bring a shopping list? I'm paying. _

Jack texts Bitty on Wednesday.

_ Do I need to get any special baking dishes or utensils for this?  _

He attaches a picture of every drawer in the kitchen.

Jack texts Bitty on Thursday.

_ Do you have a copy of the recipe or should I print one out for us from the course notes? _

Jack calls Bitty on Friday.

Bitty pauses the show he was watching on his laptop when he sees Jack's name on his screen. He shakes his head but it's all fond. He can't believe the effort this boy is putting in.

"Another pie question?" Bitty answers teasingly. "You know I'm going to be there on the weekend, right?"

"Haha," Jack replies sarcastically. "This actually isn't a question about our baking class."

"Oh. Okay. My bad," Bitty apologises, sitting up properly against his headrest. "Go ahead."

"Kidding. It is about the class."

"Jack!" Bitty laughs.

"I was thinking, should we time it so the pie is ready for dinner?"

It's a logical request. Bitty was hoping Jack would drive him home after the lesson but Bitty's got the bus from there before. He can do it again.

"We can do that. Easy. Lemme think." Bitty taps his fingers against his collarbone. "Pastry plus filling plus baking time, um...I think I was getting around three hours all up when I was doing it."

"It's going to be slower with you teaching me though."

"Okay. Plus another hour?" Bitty guesses.

"So four hours," Jack totals.

"Uh-huh. So we'd need to start cooking at…" Bitty counts backwards on his fingers. "Three o'clock."

"Plus the grocery shopping before that," Jack reminds him. "Another twenty."

Bitty laughs. "Oh no, Jack. Closer to an hour for that, probably."

"Right," Jack says slowly. 

Bitty feels immediately bad for laughing at him. His gut drops. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"You didn't. It's fine," Jack assures him.

"I can be picky with ingredients, is all," Bitty tries to explain. "Plus there's the getting to and from the shop and lining up at check out, then unpacking everything back home."

"Of course. It's really fine. I normally shop online, is all. I forgot to factor that stuff in."

Bitty bites his lip, still feeling a little bad for the laughter.

"So I'll pick you up at two then."

"Yeah."

Their baking day is turning into more of an extravaganza than the Bitty from Monday thought it would be. Spending five hours straight with Jack is going to be a test of Bitty's willpower, not to say something sappy or make heart eyes at Jack. Last weekend was tricky enough every time Jack turned his big blue eyes at him and kept them there as Bitty answered his questions.

"No wonder you called instead of texting," Bitty says when he realises he's been quiet for too long.

Jack laughs. "Yeah. I'm looking forward to our dinner."

Bitty’s heart thumps against his ribcage. "You want me to stay for dinner?" He's surprised the question comes out sounding so normal.

"Yeah, of course," Jack replies.

"You didn't say earlier." There's the more strangled tone he was expecting.

"Oh." There's a pause. "I thought it was implied. Would you like to stay?"

"I'd-"  _ love to. _ "Like that."  _ A lot. _ "Thanks, Jack."

"If my pie turns out terrible, we'll order take out."

"That's right. You told me you suck at pies," Bitty recalls.

"I'm hoping with your expertise it'll pull me up to somewhere around average."

A five hour baking class  _ and _ a sit down dinner with Jack at his place. Bitty's going to struggle not to see that as a date.

Two weeks, Bitty reminds himself. Just two weeks left. 


	14. "You ready?"

Bitty has a hopeful plan to finish his assignments Saturday morning so they're out of the way for the weekend. It's also meant to be a distraction technique—ironic since normally school work is the thing he's procrastinating—from fretting about being in another date-like-but-not-a-date situation with Jack, especially since he's embraced his feelings now and isn't trying to only see Jack as a friend.

At any rate, it doesn't work.

Bitty sleeps too long, spends too long worrying about what to wear (is the button up shirt too formal?) and totally forgets he was meant to provide a shopping list for the outing which means finding the recipe on his mess of course notes on his computer. He could probably get it from memory after how many times he made the pie earlier in the semester, but Jack specifically requested a list and Bitty wants to provide.

Thinking of Jack makes Bitty pause and press a hand to his stomach. He's both ridiculously eager for today and incredibly nervous. Even though Bitty knows better, he still feels like he's about to go on a date with Jack. Even with the memory of Jack's words from that night at the police station ("the inherent hierarchy"), there's a little hopeful voice in his head that's been growing louder every day closer to the end of the semester, telling Bitty that there  _ is _ something between him and Jack, but more importantly, that's it's not one sided. 

Maybe it's just a comfort thing, telling himself he's not the only one waiting for the semester to be over. This weekend then two more weeks. It seems so short but still an age away. He still isn't sure exactly what he's going to do about his feelings at the end of the two weeks. Most of his daydreams are about Jack kissing him after he hands in his final assessment, which Bitty doesn't actually think will happen.

A text comes through on Bitty's phone as he's attempting to construct a more realistic fantasy where he visits Jack in his TA office and tells him how he feels.

It's from Jack.

_ I'm out front. You ready? _

Bitty takes a deep breath as butterflies erupt inside him. He smooths down the front of his shirt and double checks the shopping list is in his bag.

_ Ready! Omw. _

He pockets the phone and hopes it's true.

-

Jack is immediately noticeable when Bitty steps out into the sunshine from his dorm, though as people move past him on the sidewalk, Bitty thinks it's probably only to him. Jack's blue jeans and plain black top are nondescript, and leaning back against his car takes some of his ridiculous height away, yet Bitty's eyes go straight to him. He swallows roughly as heat crawls up the back of his neck. None of Jack's clothes even fit him particularly well and his hair is trapped under a cap but he's still breath-takingly attractive. It's crazy that Bitty isn't used to it yet.

Bitty walks slowly over to Jack, thinking with each step  _ two weeks, two weeks, two weeks _ . After that he can be as obvious as he dares with his feelings but today he still has to keep them somewhat shielded from Jack.

Jack spots him when he's a few feet away and pushes off from the side of his car. Bitty's heart thumps as Jack's face lifts with a wide smile.

"Eric. Hello." 

Bitty's never loved his name so much as when it's coming from Jack's lips. He hopes his smile isn't too lovestruck.

"Hey, Jack."

Jack doesn't go for a hug but he opens the passenger door for Bitty and gestures him in. Bitty tells himself it's a good thing there wasn't any physical contact but he still misses the opportunity.

Bitty expects to be the one rambling on their drive to the supermarket, using words to barrel over and through any inappropriate thoughts, but that role is taken by Jack today.

Bitty listens to a full rundown of all the preparation he's been doing for the class—cataloguing all their baking supplies, clearing space in the fridge, double checking everyone was actually going to be out of the house. Bitty has to laugh at the last one and that hopeful part of him goes 'hey, look how serious he is about being alone with you'.

Bitty swallows. He can tell his smile is more fond than friendly. He hopes Jack doesn't notice.

"I think this is the fastest I've ever heard you talk," Bitty remarks in a pause as Jack switches the radio station over.

"Oh."

After the one-word placeholder, Bitty gives Jack time to sort his thoughts out but after the song on the radio finishes Bitty realises Jack's not planning on responding.

"I didn't mean it's a bad thing," Bitty tries to clarify, worried he's popped whatever bubble Jack's been operating in and totally ruined the earlier mood. "Just a new thing."

Jack throws a quick look to Bitty and repositions his hands on the steering wheel. "Sorry. Guess I'm just nervous, or, uh, excited. I've been thinking about this since Monday."

Bitty's stomach squeezes though it shouldn't come as a shock after the monologue Jack just gave. He's more caught out by the nerves Jack is confessing to, wondering if they're anything like the ones Bitty has, for the same reason Bitty has them, and what that's going to mean for the rest of today if they are. 

"Really?" Bitty asks when he notices Jack looking at him. When the question comes out too delicate and hopeful, Bitty rushes into adding a sarcastic, "I couldn't tell. I only got a text about it every day."

"Haha," Jack replies, but Bitty can see his grip loosen on the wheel so he knows he's said the right thing.

The grocery store Jack takes them to is much larger than the one Bitty normally frequents. They use the full hour Bitty budgeted and then some. Bitty gets distracted by the range in the baking aisle and learns that Jack is an enabler, adding ingredients Bitty fawns over into the cart and trying to hide them beneath the pie ingredients when Bitty's not looking. They have a minor tussle by the produce section when Jack smuggles half a dozen peaches into their cart and Bitty struggles to take them back out. Jack uses his larger frame to his advantage and Bitty's arms can barely get by him. There's a lot of bodily contact. Bitty's pulse races with every reminder of how large and strong Jack is.

It's only after Bitty accidentally discovers Jack is ticklish on his left side that he manages to get the bag of peaches in his grip. He lifts his hands in victory and Jack makes to grab the bag from him. Bitty takes a step back and bumps into someone else's cart. Though both receive a withering look and escape down the next aisle before giving in to the urge to laugh. Jack's cheeks are tinged red and the cap got knocked off during their tussle so his hair spills over his forehead. Bitty longs to reach up and touch. He takes charge of the cart instead, wrapping his hands firmly around the handle. It's very unsatisfying.

Jack pays like promised and soon after they're parked in his driveway. Nerves shoot through Bitty's body. This is going to be the first they've been truly alone today, not counting the two short car trips. There's something unsettled in his gut. What if he can't keep his emotions in check and Jack figures him out? Bitty doesn't want to ruin their friendship. 

It's too late to do anything but follow Jack inside with their shopping and remind himself he's here to teach Jack to bake.

"Two weeks," he whispers to himself as he crosses the threshold.

"What was that?" Jack asks, already in the kitchen unloading groceries onto the countertop.

Bitty shakes his head. "Nothing."

Without all of Jack's other housemates in the kitchen, the space feels a lot larger than last time. Bitty is still vividly aware of Jack at all times. It's like his brain catalogues how many steps it would take Bitty to be at his side at any given moment. He hopes it quiets down soon because otherwise he's going to be a very poor teacher.

Thankfully, once they get into the baking, Bitty's focus shifts to the food. While he never forgets about his feelings for Jack—how could he—he can accept them as they are and not fret about accidentally revealing something when all their conversation revolves around baking the pie.

Jack's just as earnest a student as he was the other day. He checks in with each step that his technique is right; anything from flouring the beef to rolling the dough. Bitty doesn't take it as an excuse to put his hands over Jack's and guide him, though he'll probably be fantasising about that later in a sappy Ghost-esque way.

Jack also asks specific questions about the science side of baking that Bitty only knows some of the answers to. Jack doesn't seem to mind, and Bitty quickly finds that he can distract Jack with a compliment. The bashful smile and dipped chin he gets every time he does is just a bonus that the butterflies in his stomach enjoy very much.

In what feels like no time, the pie is nearly ready for the oven.

"It smells fantastic, Jack," Bitty tells him honestly. "Well done."

Jack's chin dips and Bitty's heart squeezes.

"I had a great teacher."

With the compliment flipped on Bitty, his body gets all warm and tingly.

"Just the lattice top to do now," he tells Jack.

Jack groans. "Can't I just do a regular, flat top?"

"You could, but I'm the teacher and I say you can do a lattice top. What if I cut the pastry strips for you?" Bitty offers.

"Or what if I cut the strips for you and I watch you do it so I'll know for next time? I don't want to ruin all of our hard work by putting my terrible latticework on top of the pie. Can you do it?" 

Bitty would almost say that Jack is pouting. He hopes he’s reading it right and narrows his eyes to match Jack’s playfulness. "Why do I feel like you're pushing the point?"

"Because you're the pie maker. You've been itching to do it yourself the whole time. Don't think I haven't noticed all those aborted hand twitches," Jack teases.

Bitty rolls his eyes but his stomach swoops. He hadn't thought Jack noticed those times Bitty went to touch him on the arm and pulled back. He's going to have to be even more careful from now on not to move his physicality into more intimate territory.

Bitty exaggerates a put upon sigh. "Fine. I guess I'll do it. But you're cutting the strips."

"Deal." Jack grins in victory or possibly relief.

"Can you flour the bench please?" Bitty asks Jack. 

"Sure thing," Jack agrees easily, like he has with all of Bitty's instructions today.

Bitty doesn't expect the handful of flour thrown his way. He gasps, which only serves to send some of it down his throat and cause Jack to start laughing at him.

"Jack! I'm your teacher," Bitty tries to reprimand, knocking flour off his shoulders while Jack grins at him.

"No, I'm your teacher," Jack counters

Bitty grabs a handful of flour and tosses it onto Jack while saying, "You're my teacher's  _ assistant _ ."

The flour hits Jack just as the smile drops from his face. 

Bitty brushes his hand off on his apron. "Jack?"

"I'm your teacher's assistant," Jack repeats his words back at him. Jack's gaze moves off Bitty's face to over his shoulder.

Bitty takes a step toward Jack. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Jack says in a strange, syrupy slow way. "I'm just rethinking my stance on something."

Bitty opens his mouth to ask but the smile slips back onto Jack's face and his eyes lock back on Bitty. Bitty's heartbeat starts thumping away in his chest. Looking at Jack now is like looking at the photograph he took the other day. There's something in his eyes that makes Bitty's skin tingle.


	15. "Are you making us breakfast?"

The pie isn't perfect but it doesn't warrant the ordering of takeout. Bitty got distracted talking with Jack about hockey, of all things, and should have smelt the burning pastry. Without knowing the ins and outs of Jack's oven, he should have set the timer for less and checked on it early, but Jack doesn't let Bitty put any blame on himself.

"I'm the baker tonight, remember?" Jack says while searching for the oven mitts.

Jack's pleased smile when he pulls the pie out of the oven has Bitty biting his lip and wishing he could take a photo of the moment.

Over dinner, entering into hour five of Bitty and Jack alone, Bitty stops quieting the voice in his head telling him they're on a date. He's tired of telling it to be quiet and as long as he doesn't let on to Jack that he's thinking of the evening as such, then there's no harm in indulging in wishful thinking. 

Still, Bitty tries not to spin Jack's behaviour into his personal narrative, though the abundance of smiles and laughs and teasing do add a certain fuel to the fire.

Jack makes Bitty send a picture of him with the pie to his friends which results in a spontaneous food-off, with everyone sending pictures back and forth of their own dinners and desserts and—in Lardo and Shitty's case—some very adventurous cocktails. In the middle, Jack gets Bitty in one of his shots and Bitty swears it's only seconds later that he gets a message request from Justin and then he's in the group chat and participating in the photo-off.

It's the kind of stupid playfulness that he hasn't participated in in ages. Bitty realises, not for the first time, that it isn’t just Jack he's been getting closer to over the past few weeks. Not just Jack that he'd like to keep in contact with after the semester is over.

Eventually, Bitty yawns widely in the middle of a sentence and Jack laughs at him.

"Have I worn you out?" Jack jokes.

Bitty's brain immediately goes down the gutter. "Pardon?"

"With all the baking."

Bitty pulls his thoughts from their M-rated fantasy. "Oh no. You should see me and Mama at Christmas. This is nothing," Bitty tells Jack, gesturing to the single pie on the table.

Jack smiles. "Good.” 

Bitty takes the moment to check the time and blinks. "Shit. It's nearly midnight. Do the buses to campus run this late still?" he asks Jack.

"I'll drive you home." Bitty is just about to thank Jack when he adds, with a sly smile, "Wouldn't want you to wind up in jail again."

Bitty's jaw drops. "That was one time!"

"One time more than most college students."

Bitty sticks out his tongue at Jack. Not a great choice but he blames the late hour and how comfortable he feels in Jack's presence.

"But in all seriousness, you should stay here tonight."

Jack's words are said casually but Bitty's brain immediately spins him a different vision of spending the night with Jack, alone, in this house.

"I thought you were teaching a class tomorrow morning?" Bitty asks while his pulse pounds loud in his ears.

"I am," Jack confirms. "You can still stay over. You've done it before."

"That was under very different circumstances."

Jack hums. "Well we're friends now. It's probably more appropriate in this situation. I can drop you at the dorms on the way to my class."

Bitty folds his hands on his lap. Jack waits with a gentle smile on his face that makes Bitty's insides feel gooey and warm.

"I don't want to overstay my welcome," Bitty says even though it's exactly what he wants to do. More time with Jack sounds great right now (and always). He's done so well tonight with enjoying being around Jack without Jack getting suspicious of his feelings. 

Jack leans forward in his seat. His voice comes out low and soft when he says, "I'd feel better if you did."

Bitty bites his lip, goosebumps prickling his skin. That voice. He's pretty sure if Jack said his name in that tone he'd do almost anything.

He clears his throat and shuffles in his seat. "Are we about to enter a guilt trip loop?"

Jack laughs. It sends a shiver up Bitty's spine.

"Not if you say yes to the offer so I won't feel guilty for forcing you home at midnight."

Bitty reaches for the pie and carries it into the kitchen, covering it with cling film and putting it into Jack's fridge.

He shuts the door and leans a shoulder against it. Jack's looking at him with inquisitive eyebrows.

Bitty gets a little thrill holding Jack's gaze. He knows what his answer is.

-

Bitty is pulled from his dreams early the next morning by noises in Jack's bedroom. Though Jack offered Bitty his choice of rooms, he felt strange sleeping in any of the other ones because he's not as close to Justin, Adam, Lardo and Shitty. Jack offered up his room again and Bitty accepted without even the perfunctory 'are you sure?'.

The noise that woke Bitty turns out to be Jack rustling through his closet in only a towel, clearly having just showered.

Bitty bites his lip so he doesn't groan. It's really too early for him to resist having a look. Jack's back ripples as his muscles move and Bitty's libido awakens harshly. He doesn't mean to make a noise but when he repositions on the bed there's a creak of springs and Jack turns.

Bitty hasn't even recovered from Jack's bare back and now he's treated to his abs and chest hair and good lord Bitty feels woozy. Thank goodness he's already lying down and the lights are off. His cheeks are hot.

"Sorry for waking you," Jack whispers. "Didn't think to grab my gym clothes last night."

Bitty tries to tell him it's fine but his mouth feels tacky.

"Did you want a shower before I drop you off?" Jack says. "You've got time."

"It's fine." This time the words do come out.

"You sure? Probably nicer than the dorm showers."

"I'm sure. Thanks."

Jack turns back to retrieve clothes from the cupboard and Bitty pushes his head down into Jack's pillow, holding in a frustrated groan at the situation. He knows Jack isn't trying to be a tease but being in his bedroom alone with him while he's half naked and Bitty is still rising from his dreams couldn't be anything but a tease.

"I'll see you out there," Jack says as he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

Bitty dresses methodically and heads into the bathroom to try and wrangle his hair into something less unruly before Jack sees him again. The shower is still steamy and Bitty stares at it for a full minute before realising.

"Good lord, get a grip," he tells his reflection.

In the kitchen, Jack is at one of the kitchen counters, sliding diced fruit from a chopping board into a blender.

"Are you making us breakfast?" Bitty asks, entering the kitchen.

"Yeah," Jack smiles at Bitty over his shoulder. "Hope that's alright?"

"Very much," Bitty assures Jack. "I don't think I'm allowed to turn down free food as a college student."

Jack laughs as he turns the blender on and Bitty's stomach swoops. 

The line between  _ friendship  _ and  _ more  _ folds up on itself again. Bitty couldn't be more relieved the end of the semester is so close. He wants to ask Jack about what's going on between them. Does Jack think their friendship line is folded up too or is Bitty imagining it?

-

They take the smoothies into the car to have en route.

"Now, I like to think I'm pretty good at them," Jack says as Bitty takes his first sip. "I've had years of practise. But you're the foodie so if they are terrible and I'm just used to them, let me know."

"It's good," Bitty assures him. 

Jack smiles like Bitty's given him a bigger compliment than he did.

The drive feels short and they fill it with easy conversation. Bitty still has half a smoothie left when they arrive at the dorms.

"Take it with you," Jack tells him. "You can give the cup back to me tomorrow."

"Okay," Bitty agrees.

"Hey," Jack stops Bitty as he's opening the door to leave the car. "About tomorrow. What do you have planned after our class?"

"Uh, nothing really."

Jack nods. "Do you want-" he stops. "Do you want to have lunch with me? I'll bring some of the leftover pie."

Of all the sentences Bitty would have guessed Jack might say, that was not one of them. He doesn't do a very good job of hiding his surprise. His eyebrows jump up without any thought.

"You don't have to say yes." Jack obviously noticed the eyebrows. "I know you're probably busy with end of semester things."

Jack's fingers fidget on the steering wheel. Bitty watches them, surprised at the outward display of nerves. When his eyes land back on Jack's face, there's uncertainty there.

It was never in question, what his answer would be. "I have some stuff to do, but yes. I'm up for lunch."

Jack’s nervous expression breaks and he's smiling again. 

If Bitty were an outside observer he'd assume he was just asked on a date. After yesterday and this morning, even with Jack's warnings about not dating students he TAs, it doesn't feel like an impossibility.


	16. “What is it?”

Bitty is starting to experience a startling new habit of actually waking up in a good mood on Mondays. There’s no doubt about what’s causing it; today he’ll be seeing Jack. He hops out of bed in an almost literal sense and chooses an outfit with care because not only will he be seeing Jack today, he’ll be having lunch with Jack.

It’s a lot of time they’re spending together over three days but all of it has been initiated by Jack. It has to mean what Bitty hopes it does. Doesn’t it?

The hopeful part of Bitty is by far the largest and loudest, but the little whisper of doubt manages to appear anyway. He’s been a victim of projecting his feelings before. It’s not a pleasant thing to discover that’s been happening. He really doesn’t want that with Jack. Now that he’s friends with Jack’s friends online he could probably ask someone for some insight into Jack’s feelings, but it feels shady to go behind Jack’s back and Bitty doesn’t know if they’d let on to Jack that he asked. Besides, he wants to be the one to tell Jack how he feels. He doesn’t want Jack to find out through someone else.

Class goes by in a blur which Bitty spends mostly staring at the back of Jack’s head and remembering what his body looks like beneath his clothes. As soon as class ends, and Jack heads toward him, Bitty realises what a terrible idea that was because his face is flushed and his eyes keep wanting to drop from Jack’s face.

“Hey, Eric. Ready to go?” 

Bitty’s insides quiver at the sight of Jack’s smile. “I’m ready,” he announces. 

They join the flow of people exiting the building, elbows bumping occasionally, sending little sparks down Bitty’s arm.

“I have to apologise,” Jack says to Bitty when they’re outside the building.

“Why? What for?”

“I didn’t manage to bring any leftover pie like I promised. The others got back last night and devoured it.”

Jack looks so put off that Bitty laughs.

“Hey! No making fun.” Jack bumps his elbow into Bitty’s arm on purpose this time and tingles spread out along Bitty’s skin. “I was really looking forward to eating more of it.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Jack.” Bitty leans up to Jack’s ear and whispers, “You can make another pie at any time.”

Jack turns his head to grin at Bitty. Bitty goes a little breathless for how close their faces are.

“So if there’s no pie,” Bitty asks, dropping back to his normal height before he does something uncalled for like kiss Jack, “what are we doing for lunch?”

“I was going to take us to this cafe I know a little off campu—Oh! Wait” Jack stops on the sidewalk and Bitty turns to face him. “When’s your next class? Sorry. I should have asked earlier.”

“I’m free the rest of today.”

Jack grins and Bitty’s heart squeezes. “Great.”

-

When Jack said the cafe was off campus, he really did mean it. Bitty isn’t complaining, not at all, even though it eats into time he was going to spend at the library actually starting on his end of semester assessments. They’ve walked almost half an hour before Jack opens a nondescript door and gestures Bitty into a tiny cafe that he probably would have walked past on his own. 

Homey is how Bitty would describe it, but somehow also minimalist. Light wood tables and ferns in rows on matching wooden shelves. They take a small table in the back corner and peruse the menu.

“Oh look. They’ve got pies, Jack! You don’t have to miss out.”

Jack shakes his head. “Yours are better.”

Bitty flushes and holds his menu up to hide his blush. After deciding on food, Jack goes to the counter to order for them and Bitty checks his phone for the first time since this morning. Must be a record for him but Jack pulls his attention like no one else can.

There’s a new message in the group chat Bitty is now a part of apologising for eating the rest of the pie. Also a very amusing picture of Lardo, Shitty, Adam and Justin crowded around the empty pie tin, fake-crying, followed by a screenshot of an online grocery list filled with pie ingredients and another picture of the four of them pouting at the camera.

Jack returns to the table, taking the seat across from Bitty. “What’s so funny?” he asks because Bitty’s been laughing at his phone.

“Your friends are crazy. Look. They’re trying to bribe me back to your house to make more pies.”

Bitty holds the phone out to Jack, still laughing, but the sound peters out when Jack wraps his fingers around Bitty’s hand to hold the phone still. Bitty’s heart thumps away rapidly and his stomach twists itself into a knot.

He’d done such a good job in the kitchen on the weekend avoiding touching Jack. It’s made him overly sensitive now to the solidness of Jack’s hand on his and the warmth of his skin. His feelings for Jack bubble up inside him, threatening to burst out, but he swallows them down. His confession can wait a little longer.

“They’re crazy,” Jack says, shaking his head, but his smile is fond. “Sorry if they’re bothering you. You don’t have to stay in the group chat if you don’t want.”

Bitty swallows as Jack’s hand drops from his. “I don’t mind,” he shrugs, placing his phone face down on the table. “I think your friends are great. I was kind of thinking that we were all starting to be friends, actually? Me and them, you know, not just you and me.”

“Oh.”

Their drinks arrive after Jack’s placeholder. Bitty picks his up and takes a sip, but Jack ignores his in favour of pressing his hands down onto the table top.

“I have something to confess,” Jack says.

“Okay,” Bitty says, returning his drink to the saucer, worried at the serious look in Jack’s eyes. Did he not swallow his feelings well enough a moment ago? 

“It’s about the two of us being friends.”

Bitty's heart plummets but still manages to start racing. Nothing good can follow that statement, and Jack looks so unsure now that he’s dropped his eyes to the table instead of looking at Bitty. 

Shit. Jack must have figured out how Bitty feels about him. Bitty really didn't think he was projecting this time. 

“What is it?” he forces himself to ask. 

“I told you that I didn’t mind being your friend.”

Bitty bites down on his lip as it starts to tremble. Suddenly, Jack taking Bitty to a cafe away from campus isn’t romantic. He’s probably protecting himself and didn’t want students overhearing what he’s about to say. Jack is going to end things between them.

“That’s still true," Jack continues, "but there's something else. Do you remember when you called me from the police station?"

Jack lifts his head to Bitty, who feels pinned by Jack's gaze, his muscles locking in place. "I remember."

"I thought you were calling me because of a dare and then because I thought you were… interested in me."

Jack leaves silence after the sentence but Bitty fears if he tries to speak he’ll start crying. He’s unprepared for this conversation. End of semester is so close and he hadn’t anticipated a big heart to heart before then, has been actively avoiding initiating it. 

“I know there isn’t much left of the semester, and I’d planned on waiting until it’s over to say anything, because I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position,” Jack lays out. “But I think my behaviour, especially over the last few days, has made it clear that I… that…” 

Bitty swallows roughly as Jack sucks in a breath. Couldn't he have at least waited until after they'd eaten? Bitty thinks desperately. Now they’re going to have to finish their meals in awkward silence while Bitty fights off tears and Jack avoids eye-contact.

Bitty is getting so caught up in the thought that he almost misses what Jack says. When he does piece together the words, he’s certain he’s gotten them wrong.

“You what?” Bitty can’t help the question dropping from his mouth. He thinks he may be in shock.

“I care about you as more than a friend,” Jack repeats, eyes heavy on Bitty’s face, “and since I figured it out, I’ve been abusing your kindness and asking for too much of your time. Baking lessons and meals at the TA office, and—”

“Stop.”

Jack obliges immediately though Bitty knows the word comes out harshly.

“Sorry. I just—I need to think for a moment,” Bitty tries to soften it.

Jack nods and leans back in his seat, looking away from Bitty.

Bitty crosses his arms over his chest and tries to unjumble his thoughts. He’s pulled himself through an emotional ringer this morning. Seeing Jack, looking forward to having lunch with him, thinking there was something real, immediately jumping to the very worst conclusion when Jack said that thing about being friends, worrying he was going to end their relationship and now, now. Bitty’s hearing the very thing he’s hoped he would for the past few weeks. It’s not at all how he imagined it. Any happiness he thought he’d feel is being overshadowed by embarrassment and worry.

“More than a friend?” Bitty has to check. 

“Yes,” Jack confirms. 

Bitty begins to feel it then, the happiness he was expecting. It’s a little flash of heat that starts in his belly and then spreads through his whole body, right up to his face, lifting his cheeks with a smile.

This is the moment he’s waited for. This is the start of Jack and Bitty being something clear and real and  _ more than _ .

“You haven’t been abusing my kindness,” Bitty tells Jack, using his words, trying to appreciate the moment growing between them. “I…”

After so long imagining saying the words to Jack, they’re slow to come out and end up half-whispered.

“I like you too. As more than a friend.”

Jack’s relief is clear. The furrow lines in his forehead disappear, and his lips lift a little at the side in a tentative smile before he drops his head and sighs out.

Bitty laughs then, because he’s got so much happiness in him and it has to come out somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Am I right :P We're near the end now, folks, probably another one or two parts. Thanks for being on this ride with me :)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it wouldn't be one of my fics if it hadn't been beta-read by the phenomenal Silvia. Thanks once again! 
> 
> And thank _you_ for following and reading and throwing your support behind this! It's been pretty astounding in all honesty. I try and reply to all comments so feel free to leave one!


End file.
